Raspberry Jam
by TigrisIgnis
Summary: Injured and in a strange place, Orophin finds himself rescued by an unlikely hero: a mortal woman. Her care and cooking nurse him back to health, but he finds himself growing attached to the kind woman. Her sweetness is only matched by her raspberry jams. But a growing darkness threatens her home and Orophin finds himself becoming her saviour. Pre-LOTR
1. Chapter 1

_A tale about Orophin befriending a mortal woman. He and his brothers discover lessons of friendship, life, and mortality._

_I do not claim any of Tolkien's world as my own. I just enjoy playing there._

**Raspberry Jam**

* * *

There was a voice that seemed to drift through his dreams. It was not a soft voice. Indeed it was not an elven voice at all, but it soothed him and chased away his fears. As his senses gradually returned it was this voice he strained to hear, although it had not the melodic lilt of the _Eldar_, it was still better than the echoing silence.

Orophin lay unmoving, sending out his senses to investigate his surrounds. Keeping very still and eyes closed, he listened and felt. He lay on something softer than the ground and he felt warm. Something covered him. Hesitantly he moved his fingers. _Cloth_, he realized—a blanket.

It was nubby and coarse but warm. It smelled faintly of its owner, or rather owners. Not an unpleasant smell, for it was clean, but well worn nonetheless. A faint pop and hiss caught his attention.

It was a fire and by the sound of it, it was in a nearby hearth. Carefully he opened his eyes. The light blinded him, though in truth the chamber was fairly dim. It was night but the room was bright compared to his deep unconsciousness. Blinking he brought his sight into focus.

Wooden beams ran in parallel lines above his head. Shadows and light danced merrily above him. Following the marching beams to a wall he saw a door to his right. It was cracked slightly. In front of him was a window. The curtains were drawn but he could see the faint silver gleam of stars.

Where was he? And how did he get here? He started to move but hissed and quickly lay still. Severe pain licked up his ribs. With it came the memories—the mission. In part he had been successful. He had found the enemy, but they had discovered him as well.

After that things became fuzzy as they often did. There were moments of clarity in battle but mostly it was just a blur. He did not think during them. Survival mode shot through his body like an arrow from a bow. It served him well all his life…until now. Well, he was alive at least. And clearly this was no orc abode. Someone had found him—rescued him.

Turning his head he saw a bureau to his left. His bow leaned next to it, while his quiver, sword and knives where placed on top. His warden cloak was folded neatly by them.

There was a creak from the door and he snapped his head back around. His eyes met the most brilliant blue. In this room of shadows and dull shades the blue seemed a riot of color. The blue rested in the eyes of a young woman. A mortal.

Surprise was in those blue eyes but it quickly shifted into pleasure. "You're awake," she said moving into the room.

Her voice was familiar, but as startled as he was to see her, he couldn't quite place the voice. A clue remained just out of his reach, stuck in that unconscious realm he had been residing in until now. She came to his bedside.

"I was starting to worry. How do you feel?" She gently caressed his forehead, brushing away errant strands of his hair. Her hand was cool and unconsciously he delighted in the touch for he felt warm.

He tried to find his voice but found that he could do nothing more than croak. The woman was quick to act and she turned to an ewer and filled a simple wooden cup. Gently she eased him up so he could drink. He grasped her hand that held the cup to his lips and pulled it away after a moment. "Who…?" He cleared his throat. "Who are you?"

The blue eyes warmed with a smile. "I'm Amarie. You are in my cottage. Do you remember anything, Fair One?"

Orophin frowned trying to dredge up any memory of Amarie and her home.

"Do not fret. You were in quite a state when I found you, but all is well now. You can rest easy, Fair One."

* * *

_This story has been running around my head for a while. It will not be very long, and is unrelated to my other story _Invictus. _I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!_

_Thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

_I claim nothing of Tolkien's world as my own. I just play there._

* * *

Once he awoke Orophin began to heal remarkably fast, or at least Amarie told him so. But he simply replied that elves naturally healed faster than mortals. Still, having fractured three ribs meant that even he spent more time healing than he would have liked. Anxious to get back to Lothlórien, he tried to push himself to be hale and whole.

Amarie, however, smiled benignly and lightly chastised him for his eagerness. "An elf you may be, but you must give your body a chance to heal."

She was a curious creature, he thought. Never before had he spent so much time in the company of a mortal, let alone a mortal woman. She was very different from the maidens he knew from home. To start with, Amarie was not tall, nor was she fair like his people. She was definitely not lithe, but that did not mean she was heavy set either.

Curvy. That is what she was he decided, for Amarie had more bosom and hips than an _elleth_, but they suited her. In fact, he found her shapes intriguing. Different—she was different, and he found his eyes drawn to her figure in an assessing sort of way.

To plainly describe her, she was not remarkable. Brown hair, blue eyes, and tan skinned; and yet to him, she was everything exotically different than the norm. In her brown hair he discovered caramel, mahogany, and deep brunette that made the rich soil of Arda look plain by comparison.

Her skin was tanned darker than his own. He was intrigued by the freckles she had on her arms. There was one in particular that was just above her right breast. This was usually hidden beneath her chemise, but it would appear when she bent over, or was hard at work. His eyes were drawn to it for no other reason than it was strange to him. His people did not bare such marks.

But it was her eyes that continued to fascinate him the most. They were the most expressive blue he had ever seen—and he had seen many blue eyes in his long life! Many times he would lie in the bed at night and try to decide if they looked more like bluebells or the summer sky.

"Do you live here all on your own?" He asked her one morning as she prepared his breakfast.

She was always up at the first hint of dawn. Eggs freshly collected from the chicken coop were sizzling on her griddle along with fresh bread. Orophin eyed the raspberry jam knowing with a certain satisfaction that he didn't have to share it with his brothers.

He and his two siblings all loved raspberry jam.

"I didn't always, but now I do." She replied. As ever, her tone was light and happy. Amarie was, if anything, a joyful woman. "I had two brothers, but I haven't seen them in over a season. They went off to battle."

While her voice remained light, Orophin noticed the slight stiffening of her spine. It was clear that deep in her heart she missed her brothers. He understood for his heart pined for Haldir and Rúmil.

When Amarie turned with his full plate all sign of her distress was gone. Orophin surveyed his breakfast with relish, but even as he put a large helping of jam on his toast, his heart was nipped with concern. Had Amarie been alone all this time?

As if reading his thoughts she said, "But I am not so alone here. The village is but two hours north of here."

o0o

It was with some trepidation that Orophin watched her saddled one of her horses. She was going to the village to trade some eggs. Amarie owned two horses. Both strong willed warhorses, but they took to her like dogs. Their eyes followed her every move with adoration. It was quite amusing to see.

Orophin knew that both would never let anything befall their mistress, but it still made him uneasy. The thought of her riding alone to the village bothered him.

She laughed lightly at the look on his face. "My dear Orophin, you look as if _I_ was riding off to battle! Have peace, Fair One! I go but to the village. It is not far."

"But the roads are getting dangerous." He told her as he followed her preparations.

She had two square baskets filled with fresh eggs. Several extra jars of jam were tucked in as well. Thankfully, she kept back the raspberry. She secured the baskets to her saddle.

The great bay stood patiently, although he flicked his ears in annoyance at Orophin. They exchanged a glance. The look in the horse's eye clearly shone with his irritation with the elf. It was if he said, _I have taken care of her longer than you, elf. I know what I am doing._

Orophin glared back. _You had best keep her safe._

The horse snorted indignantly. Amarie laid a soothing hand on his neck. "Hush now, Rochir."

She swung up into the saddle. "Perhaps next time I go you can come with. But for now your ribs are not healed enough to ride, do not deny it!" She cut him off with a smile. "An elf you maybe but you're as bad as any man when it comes to giving your body a chance to heal."

Turning his glare to her now, he merely crossed his arms. Amarie leaned down and touched his cheek. It was a gesture of fondness.

"Ah, no smile before I go?" She pouted unsuccessfully.

Her mirth was contagious, and Orophin could not help it when his lips quivered into an answering smile. But it did fade as he held her hand in his.

"Be careful, aye?"

She straightened and grinned brightly, before nudging Rochir into a canter. A strange feeling purled in Orophin's gut as he watched her ride away. Was this what the maidens felt when they saw their warriors ride off? He ground his teeth. He didn't like the feeling, nor did he like how much he seemed to care. She was mortal for goodness' sake!

And yet…that smile and those blue eyes followed him into his dreams.

* * *

_Two chapters for the price of one! Check back next week for more!  
_

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't own Middle Earth. I just play there._

* * *

Almost two weeks passed since Orophin awoke in Amarie's cottage, and he was well enough to leave. However, he lingered finding excuses to stay. The barn door was stiff and did not shut properly, so he fixed it. A fox broke into the chicken coop—but thankfully took only one chicken—he fixed the breach there.

Inside the house there was myriad of small projects that he did, for without her brothers certain things fell into disrepair. In his heart, Orophin knew he had to return to Lothlórien. By now his brothers must be frantic with worry, but he couldn't abide the thought of leaving Amarie on her own.

She wasn't helpless by any means. He had seen her wield the ax to chop wood, or behead chickens. She was not shy of life, but there was this delicate quality to her that made him want to protect her.

"Do you not think that it would be safer to live in the village?" He asked her one evening.

"And be subject to gossip and unmarried men? No, I think not!" She laughed. "I like my peace and quiet. If I am lonely I can go into the village, but I prefer my own land. And it hasn't been quite so lonesome these past few weeks." She smiled brightly at him, warming his heart.

o0o

In the corner of the main room there was a disused harp. It had been her mother's she said.

"I wish I knew how to play, but she died before I could learn."

Orophin dusted off the instrument and tuned it. Then setting his fingers to the strings he plucked out a lovely melody. Amarie watched him enthralled. He smiled and began to sing.

This happened every evening where after the evening meal Orophin would pull the harp forth and play for her. But being the tenacious girl that she was, Amarie begged him to teach her how to play, and so during the day he would give her lessons. She was nowhere near as skilled as he, and perhaps had no natural talent for music, but she practiced with great enthusiasm.

It was during one such lesson that they heard her horses neighing in alarm. Grabbing his sword, Orophin was the first out the door. He had warned Amarie to stay inside, but she flew past him when she saw what was happening.

"Wait!" She cried running after the men who were commandeering her horses. "You cannot take them!"

The captain looked down upon her from his saddle. "They are needed. The battles continue, and all able-bodied men and beasts must play their part."

"But they are all I have left!" She said gripping his knee. "You already took my brothers,"

The soldier nudged his horse so as to side step her clinging fingers.

"And I send what food I can spare to the troops. Please! Do not take them!"

Orophin moved to her side. The solider looked upon her sympathetically but his eyes hardened upon seeing the elf. Orophin held the man's narrowed gaze.

"I am sorry, my lady. But I have my orders."

Rochir and the other stallion whinnied but followed the men that led them away. Amarie's eyes filled with tears even as Orophin restrained her. She would have run after them.

"They can't!" She moaned. "They already took my brothers."

Orophin murmured soothing Elvish words to her, but that didn't not stop the flow of tears. She whirled in his grasp and cried into his chest. He felt his heart contract. Feeling eyes upon him he looked up to see the captain looking back at them. He held the man's gaze until the man kicked his horse into a trot.

The rest of that day was subdued. Amarie did not smile. This time it was Orophin who prepared their supper. At last when the meal had been finished, Amarie looked up at him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Surprised he blinked. "For what, _hiril nín?"_

She reached her hand across the table and laid it on his. "For being here."

* * *

_Thoughts?  
_

_Thanks for reading! _


	4. Chapter 4

_I don't own Tolkien's Middle Earth. I just play there._

* * *

It took several days but Amarie's irrepressible spirit could not be held down. Eventually her smiles return, but there was hint of sadness that tainted them. Still she cared for the chickens, baked, and made jam. She applied herself to her harp lessons with gusto. She was making some improvement there.

Orophin made himself useful in the barn once more, while Amarie cleaned inside the house. It was as he was clearing out the main aisle that he heard someone familiar call his name.

"Orophin!"

His head shot up and he saw his brothers emerge from the wood near the cottage. Dropping the pitchfork he ran across the distance meeting his brothers halfway. His younger brother embraced him tightly in a bear hug.

_"Thank Elbereth!"_ He said in Elvish_. "I thought you got eaten!"_

Orophin laughed. _"So little faith you have in me, brother?"_

Catching Haldir's gaze, he could see his eldest sibling looking him over carefully. Releasing Rúmil, Orophin clapped his hand on Haldir's shoulder and smiled. His usually reticent brother then pulled him into a firm embrace.

_"You have been missed, brother. What has happened?"_

The commotion had caught Amarie's attention and she stood on the porch watching them. Haldir noticed and stiffened. Orophin and Rúmil turned. Smiling Orophin entreated his brothers to meet her.

"Amarie!" He called in Westron. "Come meet my brothers!"

Her lips broke into the beautiful smile he had come to adore. Her eyes held boundless joy at seeing his happiness.

His brothers looked her over thoroughly, Rúmil with keen interest and Haldir more reservedly, but Orophin could sense their questions. Amarie for her part warmly bid them to come inside.

It was cool in the house, compared to outside and while the elements did not bother the elves for the most part, they were grateful for the shade. She poured them her homemade lemonade: a real treat for them, since lemons were rare inside Lothlórien.

"I am glad you are here." Amarie told his brothers. "Orophin has missed you."

"Has he?" Rúmil drawled looking between Orophin and the woman. "It seems to me that—_oaf!"_

Orophin quickly put on a mask of innocence when Amarie turned at Rúmil's distress.

"He has been missed as well." Haldir stated with more poise.

There was a question in his tone, however, but his gaze was on Orophin. Knowing that it could not be avoided he told them of his battle with the orcs and how he came to be wounded. He had finished them off but had not the strength to return to Lothlórien.

Somehow, in his dazed state he had seen the light of Amarie's meadow in the early morning. He had stumbled onto her land before succumbing to his wounds. It was Amarie who had tended him; it was she who had healed him, and she who harbored him until he was well enough to travel.

"You have our deepest thanks, my lady." Haldir told her sincerely. "I can see that my brother has been restored to full health thanks to you."

Amarie gave the frosty Haldir a sunny smile. How that did not melt his stoic façade, Orophin could not know.

"It was no trouble. Orophin has made himself useful during his convalescence."

_"How useful, I wonder?"_ Rumil quipped in Elvish, earning a glare from Orophin.

Amarie prepared them a simple but flavorful meal that evening and she even broke out a bottle of wine that had been hidden under the floorboards. When Orophin would have protested she cut him off.

"It is a celebration!" She chided. "Your brothers have found you—what greater reason is there to rejoice?"

Rúmil grinned indolently and declared in undertone that he liked this mortal woman very much. Again he earned himself a sharp look from Orophin, but any terse words were withheld as Amarie toasted to family and friends.

"May your lucky stars glow above you, and the sun shine on your way; May you have many friends to love you, and have joy in work and play; Let laughter outweigh each care, and in your heart a song—and may gladness be waiting everywhere, all your whole life long!"

o0o

Later that night, after Amarie and gone to sleep, the elven brothers stood on her porch. The moonlight gleamed on the grasses before her door, and crickets sang their love songs to each other. The stars were glistening diamonds in the sky, but the beauty of the night was lost on the trio.

"Why have you lingered for so long? You have been healed for a week or more." Haldir demanded softly in Elvish.

Rúmil stood off to one side, leaning against a support with his arms crossed. He too desired to know why his brother had lingered in this mortal's home; its comforts not withstanding.

"You know as well as I brother, that it takes some time for bone to heal. Even now I am still tender."

"Seems he has grown soft," Rúmil quipped.

"Be quiet!" Orophin snapped.

Haldir sent them each a quelling look. "Be that as it may, you are well enough to travel and avoid danger. You should have returned home. The Lord and Lady worry for you."

It went unsaid, but Haldir had worried greatly as well. Orophin knew this and his heart sank.

"I did not mean to cause distress."

"Then why did you linger?" Rúmil probed.

With a sigh Orophin turned his gaze to the lands surrounding Amarie's cottage. The barn, now empty, and the coop filled with its sleeping chickens; the dirt track that led into the town where she went each week to trade her wares.

His thoughts turned to Amarie, to her soft chestnut hair and her blue-blue eyes. _So blue!_ His heart clenched a little as he thought about her charming smile.

"She is mortal, Orophin." Haldir said as if divining his thoughts. "She is but a moment in long years of the _Eldar_."

"I know this." He sighed heavily. Then he looked at his brothers. How could explain her to them so that they could understand? To his surprise Haldir put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"That is the way with mortals. For all their faults, they are captivating. And when we stumble across one where the light of Eru shines brightly, we cannot help but notice." Haldir held his gaze steadily. "But we cannot forget that they will die. It is their nature."

The thought of Amarie dying and leaving this world pained Orophin more than he cared to admit but he couldn't deny that it was the truth. He had never forgotten. He simply chose to not think about it.

"We must leave tomorrow." Haldir squeezed his shoulder gently.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

_Special thanks to NinjaChipmunk and DeLucas for reviewing! I'm glad you are enjoying this little story. _

_And as always, thanks to everyone for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

_I do not own Tolkien's world. I just __play there_

* * *

As was her custom, Amarie was up with the first hint of dawn. The scent of breakfast woke the elves. It was with a heavy heart that Orophin prepared to leave. As he entered the kitchen he braced himself.

Amarie was humming as she fried eggs. Today was special for she had been to the village not two days past. She was cooking the bacon and sausage she had traded for. It smelled delicious.

He watched her as she cooked. Her brown hair was pulled back low at the nape of her neck, and held there with a bow of blue ribbon. This was no different than how she usually wore her hair. The only thing that changed day-to-day was the ribbon's color. She didn't have many clothes, but she wore her favorite gown today: robin's egg blue. It complimented her eyes.

Catching sight of him she immediately smiled.

"Good morning."

It wasn't long before his brothers joined him at the table. Rúmil surveyed everything with eager eyes. The raspberry jam was immediately seized upon. Even Haldir's stern expression lit up as he tasted the tangy spread.

Bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, and a new specialty for them all: potato griddlecakes. Not a crumb was left. Amarie sat well pleased with the satisfied faces around her. Haldir excused Rúmil and himself while giving Orophin a meaningful look.

Internally Orophin sighed. He glanced at Amarie who was already busily cleaning up the table. He reached out and lightly held her wrist.

"Amarie,"

She paused in her work. One glance at his face and she sat down next to him. Transferring his hand into her own, she peered up at him.

"What is, Fair One?"

At the sound of his nickname he smiled, though it was devoid of his usual warmth. He looked into her eyes. They stared back at him patiently.

"I must leave." He said finding his voice at last. "I must return with my brothers to Lothlórien."

She nodded. "I know." Her easy acceptance was belied by the tinge of sadness that hid in the corners of her smile. "You cannot stay here forever. Even_ I_ won't be here that long." She teased.

Orophin broke into a chuckle. She patted his hand reassuringly. "Come now. No sad faces. You must get ready to return home! I am certain your kin will be pleased to see you."

She spoke truly, even as his brothers had, but it troubled Orophin to think that he would be leaving her alone. But he knew better than to try and encourage her to leave the cottage. For all her sweetness she had a stubborn streak that could rival Haldir! Amarie would do exactly as she pleased.

The elven brothers gathered outside ready to leave. Amarie stepped out onto the porch with a portable basket in hand.

"Here, a little something help you on your way." She said.

Rúmil accepted the basket with a grin. Haldir approached her and bowed shortly in a rare show of high esteem.

"You have our thanks, Lady Amarie. May the Valar bless you always." His lips curved in a smile that was nearly rakish.

But she seemed unaffected by the smile that had endeared many hearts to him. Her eyes went to Orophin who caught up her hand next. Holding it almost tenderly with both his, he smiled down at her.

"I think I shall miss your raspberry jam the most." He said, making her laugh.

Her eyes glanced towards the basket and she lifted a brow, making him grin. His smile turned soft.

"Thank you, _hiril nín_. I would have been lost without your kindness." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

He lingered a breath longer than proper, and Amarie's cheeks were lightly dusted with rose, but her lips curled up in joy. However, her eyes were tinged with sadness.

"Take care of yourself," she said, then looking behind him to his brothers she added. "And that goes for you two as well."

With assurances from Rúmil, and a faint nod from Haldir, they turned back to the forest. Orophin lingered a moment longer, staring into her blue eyes trying to memorize their color. Then he left, his long legs taking him into the trees. He dared not look back, but he knew she stood there still.

* * *

_An early chapter! __I got a new job today as an editor at my local newspaper, so I'm feeling generous. ;) _

_Story is not over yet!_

_Thanks for reading! _


	6. Chapter 6

_Because I love you all so much, here's one more chapter for this week!_

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

"Look!" Rúmil called. "She packed us _three_ jars of raspberry jam!"

The brothers had halted as the sun started to make its descent. While they had the stamina to keep going, it was dangerous to travel at night in foreign lands. The orcs that plagued their borders seemed to be coming from southern Mirkwood, and that forest was still nearby.

Rúmil opened a jar and stuck his finger in the jam and licked it with delight.

"I envy you, Orophin. A month with cooking like your mortal lady's—a rare treat! Who knew mortals could actually cook?"

Had it only been a month? Orophin stared at the setting sun. The days seemed endless and filled with joy and light. It wasn't just Amarie's cooking that he would miss; although he wouldn't deny she had skill there. Easing back against a tree trunk he allowed his mind to wander.

It would be good to be back in Lothlórien he reflected. He missed the _mallorn_ trees, and the cool shade beneath their boughs. He missed the steady wisdom of Lord Celeborn, and none could compare to his lady, Galadriel.

And yet…Amarie's laugh echoed in his thoughts along with her blue eyes and long brown hair.

Haldir stiffened and moments later Orophin and Rúmil were on their feet. The scent came before anything else: an offensive offal scent that poisoned the evening air.

As swift as shadows, the brothers hid themselves and waited. A band of thirty orcs passed them. They bore torches, which illuminated their vile faces. The elves gripped their weapons but they did not attack. There were too many, and their mission was to return to the Golden Wood. They would fight only if pressed.

The Black Speech made the elves cringe. Few understood the words, but the brothers trained as warriors knew a bit so they might have tactical advantage over their enemy.

What they heard made Orophin's heart go cold.

_"Shara-uzg! Matûk!" _

_ Man-village! Kill them all!_

Orophin drew an arrow but Haldir gripped his arm and shook his head. He glared at his brother.

"We must go back!" He hissed as loudly as he dared.

"Nay, Orophin. We must return to Lothlórien. We cannot delay."

Rúmil kept an eye on the orcs as they disappeared into the forest. His face was grim. "They move towards the lady's land."

A fire of urgency shot through Orophin. He gripped his brother's arm tightly. "We cannot abandon Amarie. She rescued me, and I refuse to leave her to a dark fate at the hands of orcs!"

Haldir dislodged his brother's grip and ran a hand over his hair in frustration. Orophin looked pleadingly at his eldest sibling.

"Please, Haldir. We cannot leave her to such a fate." But Haldir seemed to remain of a mind to carry on. A defiant determination seized Orophin. He shouldered his bow. "You can return to Lothlórien now, but I will go to Amarie."

He gave Haldir a lingering look of anger before glancing at Rúmil. Then he took off like a deer through the trees, back the way they came.

Rúmil glanced at Haldir. Worry was bright in his eyes. An unspoken agreement was settled and they sprinted after Orophin.

The elves had traveled far that day, but Orophin did not feel the miles as he raced back to Amarie's cottage. The orcs were moving swiftly but they could not out pace him. Giving them a wide berth he circle ahead of them. He hoped he would have enough time to get her out of the house before they came.

He sensed his brothers at his back and was glad of it, but his heart had become lodged in his throat and refused to return to his chest.

As they neared the lady's land the scent of smoke permeated the air. Dread threatened to choke Orophin as he saw an orange glow ahead. They were too late!

Yet how could this be so? They had outrun the orcs. Skidding to a halt near the tree break, the brothers witnessed the consuming fire that engulfed the once cozy cottage. The barn was alight as well, and the chickens were scattered. Most were captured by orcs.

Like savage beasts they ripped the heads off the birds with their teeth and crunched down on the skulls. As gruesome at the sight was there was no sign of Amarie. Was she alive? Did she escape? Or had they killed her?

Frantically Orophin scoured the yard looking for some sign of her. Fifteen orcs were visible on the premises. But that didn't mean more weren't hidden in the shadows.

A shriek pierced the din of fire, orcs, and chickens. The three elves jolted.

"Whot 'ave we 'ere?"

A massive orc, blind in one eye hulled at a frantically struggling figure. It was Amarie. Rúmil and Haldir had to grab Orophin and forcefully hold him back.

"What are you thinking?" Rúmil hissed. "You'll get yourself killed!"

"Quiet yourself, Orophin!" Haldir ordered. "We need a plan."

They were right of course, but the blinding rage that surged through his body made Orophin quake. He nearly growled aloud to see Amarie struggling against the putrid body of the orc.

"Got ourselves quite a treat, eh boys?"

Amarie's blue eyes were glaring hot daggers at the orc that held her. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a carving knife and sliced at the half-blind orc. The beast roared in pain as she hacked at his wrist.

Free, she tried to escape, but she was surrounded. Another orc caught her around the middle and hulled her off her feet. They were hooting and laughing, even while their dubious leader was nursing his offended limb.

He snatched up her knife and held it to her neck. "Let's see 'ow you like it!" He spat, pushing the knife tip into the hallow between her neck and collarbone.

A trickle of blood oozed down. The scent of warm sweet blood made the orcs go wild. The one that gripped her licked the trail of blood even as she screamed and struggled.

From hidden vantage points the Lórien brothers loaded their bows. They took out the orcs with deadly efficiency. The one that licked Marie squealed like a stuck pig as an arrow impaled its back. Her eyes went wide in shock and horror as the creature died right in front of her.

As terrified as she was she had never witnessed death like this before. And she stood there stupidly trying to understand what just happened. In an instant strong arms enfolded her and she jumped.

"Amarie!"

Orophin's voice was like balm to her senses. He held her tightly but her gaze shifted to her cottage. Red flames licked the sky as the only home she ever knew went up in smoke and ash.

Pulling back to look at her Orophin spoke urgently, "We must leave now—come! Amarie, are you listening?"

She didn't acknowledge him but stared at the raging fire. Soot, smoke, and fear all made her eyes water, and a single tear escaped from her left eye. Orophin shook her carefully.

"Amarie, look at me!" Orophin shouted over the roar of the flames. "We must leave this place. There are more orcs coming this way!"

Rúmil ran up to them. "We must go. Now." His urgent voice along with Orophin's tugging persistence put her into action.

Grabbing her skirts she ran after the two elves. As they cleared the tree line, Haldir dropped down from above. His sudden appearance caused Amarie to gasp and jump back.

Orophin was quick to reassure her. Haldir locked eyes with the woman. He could see the shock and fear in her eyes. It would not do to have her hysterical.

"We must hurry," he ordered in clipped tones. "The rest of the orc pack is not far from here."

Orophin, still holding Amarie's hand tightly, tugged her onwards. They jogged through the woods, senses on high alert. They moved north intending to take a circumspect route back to the Golden Wood.

Looking back frequently, Orophin worried for Amarie. For the first time her seemingly irrepressible nature was gone. She had said nothing but was following. Her face was ashen and covered in soot. Her hand was like ice in his, but she pushed on without a murmur.

As they neared the road again, Haldir led them around a dip in the landscape. They kept to the trees. Shrieks and cries could be heard, and the glow of another fire was clearly visible through the trees. Edging forward cautiously the elves saw a small village up in flames.

There had to be at least fifty orcs, and more were coming. The people of the village wailed as death rained upon them. Amarie was the last to creep forward. When she saw the settlement and heard their cries she broke her silence.

"No—!"

Swift as lightening, Haldir clamp a hand over her mouth. "Quiet! Do you want them to find us?"

Amarie wiggled out of his grasp, her eyes blazing in anger. "You must help them!"

"We cannot." Haldir countered. "There are too many."

"But you did it for me! And—"

"It was risky! We succeeded, yes. But three against fifty?" He shook his head. "I am sorry, Amarie, but there nothing we can do."

She whirled to Orophin. His heart felt like it was in a vice as her eyes pleaded with him.

"You must do something!" She whispered harshly. Tears glistened in her eyes but this time not one fell.

Orophin sighed and pulled the distraught woman into his arms. "He is right; there is naught we can do without risking our own lives and yours."

Amarie pushed against him, not wanting his comfort, not wanting to believe his words. But at last she gave in.

"I am sorry," he whispered by her ear. _"Goheno nin. Goheno nin…"_

Her body trembled in his arms and he could feel her anger, her despair, and her pain. It was an all too familiar feeling. Haldir paced in front of them, clearly agitated. Orophin knew his brother felt helpless, and he despised it. They all hated the feeling.

"We should go." Rúmil murmured softly.

Haldir nodded sharply and stalked a path through the forest. Rúmil glanced at Amarie then met Orophin's eyes before following in their brother's steps. Gently Orophin coaxed her to leave the village behind, but she grew silent once more. But this time her fury was palatable.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

_As always, thanks for reading! _


	7. Chapter 7

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

Haldir wanted to push onward, but both Orophin and Rúmil convinced him to stop for Amarie's sake. She was exhausted. Her steps had become uncoordinated, and her grief weighed heavily on her.

"Very well, but we rest only for one hour. The orc pack is too near to linger longer." He said in Elvish.

The brothers agreed. Finding a secluded hallow where a stream flowed, they let Amarie rest. Haldir and Rúmil set up a perimeter while Orophin kept watch over the woman.

She continued to remain silent after her ordeal. It troubled Orophin. Never had he seen her without her smiles. Yet now there was a haunted look in her eyes, and he regretted it. Respecting her wish from some privacy, he let her wander to the stream's edge, but kept near enough to protect.

Amarie knelt at the water's brink and lowered in her hands into the icy liquid. She stared at her fingers as the small stream ran over them. It lifted away the dirt and ash making her hands clean.

Suddenly feeling very dirty she cupped the water and scrubbed her face. She worked fervently wanting to be rid of every speck of soot and ash. As she worked she tried to hold back her tears but a muted sob escaped now and then. Tears that she had valiantly withheld now steamed down her face.

_Off! Off!_ Her mind screamed as she tried to be rid of the feel of the orcs' hands on her. _Get it off!_

Frustrated that she couldn't get clean enough she struck the water. Then she fell back on her backside in a graceless heap. Moments later a familiar embrace enfolded her.

Instead of smoke and destruction she smelled verdant woods and grasses, and a soothing male musk. Turning in his arms she clung to Orophin even as her body shook with silent sobs. Barely a sound escaped her but her misery racked her entire frame.

_"Shh…nán sí_. You needn't fear _loscarîn nín_." _I am here._ _My noble brown-haired lady._

He stroked her hair and continued to hold her. In soft undertone he hummed one of the songs he had sung to her in the cottage. She quieted and listened to him. When he had finished she pulled away to look up at him.

"The harp is gone." She murmured tremulously. It was an irrational thing to say, but its loss only highlighted her heartache. Tears continued to fall from her eyes, making them a deeper blue.

Orophin dared to wipe away her tears. "Worry not. You shall have a new harp." He gave her a smile, though it was fraught with distress for her.

Amarie was still unable to smile.

Haldir appeared then. "It is time to go. We must put miles between us and the orcs this night."

He frowned at Amarie who looked as fragile as a bird in Orophin's arms. Yet when she lifted her gaze the eyes that met his were as hard as diamonds. In that look he could still see the blame. _You should have done something,_ it said.

Unwilling to hold her stare, Haldir lifted his chin before pivoting and melting into the shadows.

They ran then jogged, then sprinted, and then ran some more. Amarie stumbled after the fleet-footed elves, but not once did she complain. It was clear that the orcs were still too near for comfort. And she knew that to fall behind was to risk a fate worse than death.

They ran through the night until dawn licked the horizon behind them.

When at last Haldir called a halt, Amarie collapsed into a heaving heap. Orophin leapt to her side. She was over exhausted and her breath seemed just out of her reach.

Rúmil knelt next to her and offered some water. She drank eagerly for she was very thirsty.

"Carefully now," Orophin warned. "Not too much."

She nodded her thanks to Rúmil then lay back again. Orophin stroked her forehead, pushing the loose tendrils of hair away from her face. He fetched some way-bread for her.

"Here eat this. A single bite will sustain you."

She lifted a brow but took a bite. Miraculously she did feel full. Her look of surprised made Rúmil laugh and Orophin smile. Haldir observed stoically. He met her eyes briefly. Her gaze narrowed but she looked away as Orophin claimed her attention once more.

o0o

They went more slowly than he desired, but they had only one more day to reach Lothlórien. Haldir sighed as he watched Orophin crouch down next to the woman. Every day she forced herself to keep pace, but she consistently fell behind.

His brothers encouraged her and more often than not Orophin ran beside her. By the end of each day she would collapse with exhaustion. Her sleep was disturbed by dreams inhibiting her from obtaining a true rest. She frequently woke with a start. In her haunted gaze Haldir recognized the symptoms of heartache.

He caught her many times staring unseeingly into horizon; a sure sign that her thoughts were elsewhere. Yet when she did focus on him her eyes would flicker. The blame was still there but it had lessened. Now her gaze held more calculation…and speculation.

What she thought of him he cared little to know. But it troubled him to see how attentive Orophin was. The tenderness in his brother's eyes couldn't be ignored. Neither of his siblings were made of stone. And though he strove to hide it, neither was he.

His own heart sympathized with the woman's plight. But that did not mean he approved of his brother's affections for her.

"Orophin," he called softly.

His brother looked up from where he had sat down by Amarie. She had been soothed back into dreams, undoubtedly aided by a sleeping spell.

Haldir crooked his fingers in silent command. Orophin sighed and moved off to where Haldir stood. They could feel Rúmil's curious gaze, but their youngest sibling kept watch to the east. Moving away from the camp Haldir turned to Orophin, arms crossed over his chest.

"Have you given any thought to the lady's future? She cannot stay in Lórien."

Orophin exhaled slowly his gaze lowering. Haldir could sense the protective barrier that he seemed to have recently constructed.

"I have. However, I would speak with the Lady about it."

The single lifted brow was the only outward testament of Haldir's surprise. Heeding the unspoken command to elaborate Orophin continued.

"I think it would be best to send her to the Dúnedain clan. There she can be afforded the protection of those folk and have the buffer of Imladris. It would be the safest place for her to go."

"What of Rohan? It is closer." Haldir pointed out.

But Orophin shook his head. "Aye, but they are not as secure as those Men of the North. Nor are they as friendly to us and our kin."

It was a solid notion, but Haldir was rather surprised. He had thought that Orophin would prefer to keep the woman close by. Perhaps he had been wrong about his brother's affections.

"It is well, then, that your heart will not be forsaken." Haldir started to turn back towards their camp but harsh voice stopped him.

"Speak not on what you know nothing of!"

Haldir looked over his shoulder to see Orophin's eyes glimmering. He pivoted around.

"What mean you, brother? Do not tell me you have given your heart to this mortal!"

Orophin glowered but remained stoically silent. In a single motion Haldir swept up to him and gripped his tunic.

"That is a dangerous path, Orophin! And foolish!"

Wresting himself free Orophin shot Haldir a dark look. "Do not lecture me, brother. You keep your heart locked away—hiding from all. I count it a blessing to have my heart touched by one such as she!"

Haldir blinked, shocked by the outburst. Almost immediately Orophin repented. "Forgive me, Haldir. I just…" The sigh that left him was eloquent.

Neither one said anything for several moments. Then Haldir spoke. "Do you love her?"

Orophin grimaced. Rubbing his hands over his face he exhaled deeply.

"I know not." He paced a bit. "I find myself inexplicably drawn to her. She is beautiful—a pure light in days grown dark. But is that love? I wouldn't know." He paused and looked directly at Haldir. "I have never been in love, therefore I know not what it is I feel for her." He made a sound of frustration. "But I feel _something."_

Haldir bridged the gap between them. Placing a hand on Orophin's shoulder he said, "Let us not quarrel on this now. Your intentions have been unquestionably noble. We shall bring her to the Lord and Lady, and with their wisdom we shall set her on the right path."

* * *

_ Reviews feed the muse! _

_As always, thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

Every muscle in her body ached. If the constant running for the past two weeks didn't cause her enough pain then the sickness in her heart did. The only will she had was tied to these elves. And they didn't stop for anything but the setting of the sun.

Amarie hitched her entire focus to them and so had little time to think or process her fate. But in her dreams she would hear them…she could see the flames. So hot; so violent…she felt their heat and she felt the disgust and gut-wrenching fear of being captured.

All this she saw in her dreams. She lost count of the times Orophin came to chase her nightmares away, but it seemed that his presence wasn't enough to stop them from reoccurring.

The sun rose and with it so did she. The elves were hidden, invisible as they stood guard in the mist and trees. They never seemed to sleep, and she both wondered and envied their stamina.

There was a line on the horizon—a streak of red as the sun broke. From deep in her chest a song fought its way to her lips.

Her throat vibrated low at first as the melody hummed through her bones. Soon her lips parted and a dirge of despair left them. It was not beautiful—not in the way of elven music. But it was haunting. The three brothers shivered to hear it.

_O Death…O Death!_

_Won't you spare me over til another year._

_Well what is this that I can't see_

_With ice cold hands takin' hold of me…_

It was an old song, learnt from her mother. It had frightened yet fascinated her as a child. The back and forth bargaining of a plaintiff with Death had struck a cord in her young soul. Yet now she sang it with the mindset of all those who had died.

_No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold,_

_Nothing satisfies me but your soul…O Death!_

_Well I am Death, none can excel,_

_I'll open the door to heaven or hell._

_O Death, O Death..._

_My name is Death, and the end is here..._

Wavering on a whisper her song died. Death was satisfied with that for now. Her gaze shifted to take in the spooked faces of the elves. She could only image what she must look like to them. As unnatural their immortality was to her, so was Death to them. How could they possibly understand?

It was unlikely that they did. She must seem like some _other_ creature; mysterious; frightening even, if their faces were anything to go by. She stared at them then blinked and looked away.

The spell was broken.

The brothers were indeed highly unnerved by her song. Never before had they heard something so haunting sung in such a sweet voice. Whatever compelled Amarie to sing such a thing made them shudder to think.

Orophin at last gathered his courage and knelt next to her and offered some food and water. Her smile of thanks was nothing more than a superficial reaction. Her eyes continued to be dull and lifeless. Dark circles were under them and she was pale.

"Not much farther, _loscarîn nín._ We shall reach Lórien before the sun sets."

She nodded listlessly as she chewed the elvish bread. Before long, they left their camp with not trace of their presence left behind, but the trees remembered that song for years to come. And when the wind blew through them, they sighed with the words _O Death!_

o0o

Orophin's heart soared as they reached the border of the Golden Wood. As he promised Amarie, they had reached the forest before the sun set behind the mountains.

"Look, Amarie!" He pointed. "Those are the _mallorn_ trees."

He had told her much about his home while convalescing, and he had described the trees with much love. He hoped to see even a glimmer of her former self. Her eyes focused on the trees. Something did shimmer in her eyes but he was uncertain of what it was. Glancing at him she offered a weak smile.

The quadrant leader, Lunion, greeted them warmly and all were enthused to see Orophin's return. Many questioning eyes rested upon Amarie who slunk closer to his side.

Lunion briefed Haldir on the happenings that had occurred while he and Rúmil were gone.

"She doesn't look well." Rúmil murmured.

Orophin turned quickly to see Amarie swaying on her feet. Her gaze was unfocused and she appeared ready to drop. Grabbing her elbow, Orophin tried to get her to respond to his questions. She was slow to answer.

"I'm tired…so very…tired, Orophin."

He led her to the base of a tree and bade her sit. "Rest here for now."

She barely acknowledged him as she promptly fell over on her side. He frowned worriedly. Crouching down he brushed her loose hair from her face. The once glossy strands were dull and dirtied, and he resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his leggings.

Haldir crossed over to him and frowned down at the woman. "We must press on. The Lady commands it."

Rúmil immediately shook his head. "She is exhausted. All her strength is gone."

Haldir sighed in annoyance, but Orophin spoke up. "I shall carry her. Rúmil is right, she cannot continue."

Bending down once more, he smoothed her dirtied hair and whispered words of rest and healing. Instantly Amarie drifted into a deep sleep and did not rouse as he lifted her into his arms.

The wardens muttered between themselves as they watched the three brothers depart. Already the rumors were starting, though they had little substance or basis.

It was a four-hour trek to the city from this side of the border, but Orophin did not feel tired. Amarie was a light burden, as she never weighed much to begin with. Now with all the running she was even lighter than before. It worried him that he could feel her bones all too clearly.

o0o

The music of the elves was truly a magical thing. Amarie sat in rapt delight as she watched the musicians before her. When she had first regained consciousness, she had thought she had died and gone to heaven. Everything was soft, beautiful, and filled with light here.

Graceful women with pointed ears had tended to her, helping her bathe, and dressing her in finery. Catching sight of her reflection Amarie could not help but think she looked more beautiful than she ever had in her former life. That glimpse of herself only solidified her assumption that she was dead.

But the Lord and Lady of this land assured her it was not so. A shiver raced through her as she thought about them. Their eyes were like pure light piercing her soul. If the gods of the West were real, then surely these two were part of that divine cohort.

But they were elves. Not gods. And they had cautiously welcomed her to their city and offered refuge until she was well enough to travel.

"Where will I go?" Amarie had asked in a tremulous voice.

The Lady with hair like the sun had looked compassionately upon her, but it was the Lord who had replied.

"There is a tribe of men to the north who are both noble of character and deed. You will be sent to them."

Amarie blinked, still unsure of everything.

"For now you are a ward of Orophin," the Lady had said. "He shall see to it that you are provided for while you heal."

_Heal?_

Amarie wasn't injured; just weak and tired. She _didn't_ need healing; nor did she want it. The only thing she needed was a home—_her _home. She felt terribly lost and confused. She hadn't seen Orophin or his brothers since awakening in this eternal fairyland. Until that moment she hasn't thought she was truly alive.

But clearly she was. And this led to a gaggle of questions shouting out like geese in her mind. However, she was only led away by one of the beautiful women and guided down to the forest floor. There she had been given food and was allowed to watch the evening's entertainment.

Amarie didn't really notice how alone she felt just then. It was all too much to take in. So there she sat, watching the ethereal singers and musicians, and losing herself to the music.

o0o

"How long do you think she will stay?" Rúmil drawled.

Orophin glanced at his younger sibling through the looking glass. He appeared refreshed and relaxed. Orophin had also taken the luxury of bathing, but he could not relax. He was eager to check on Amarie.

Upon arriving in the city the Lady's handmaids had taken over her care. He had allowed it but he worried deep down that it would distress her to be around so many strangers in a strange place. He had desired to be at her side when she awoke, like she had been for him, but he was called away.

So as Amarie slept Orophin pled for her case, beseeching Celeborn and Galadriel to give her refugee. They had been sympathetic, but reluctant. What place did a mortal have among the elves? This was not Imladris. Their borders did not welcome one and all.

When the question had been raised as to who would account for the woman, Orophin immediately claimed the task. He thanked the Valar that the Lord and Lady were kind as well as wise, for they allowed it. But her staying was contingent upon her healing. Once able, she must leave.

Finishing off the simple braid that kept his hair from his face, Orophin exhaled and faced Rúmil. "Not long." He moved into the small kitchenette his home boasted.

He could feel his brother's gaze following him. For all Rúmil's absurd antics and frivolous tendencies, he possessed a keen mind that could cut like a steel blade. It was a trait all the brothers shared. But it was made all the more confounding when it showed up in Rúmil for he typically behaved in a rakish manner.

Orophin could feel the calculation happening behind him now. Thankfully Rúmil said nothing. Together they descended to the city floor, allowing the music of the night put them at ease.

"Look," Rúmil pointed.

Orophin followed his brother's line of sight. His breath hitched slightly. There, near the back and on her own, sat Amarie. Her brown hair had been cleaned and now glistened under the light of the many lamps. It had been left to its natural state, neither braided or tied back. The long chestnut locks fell gently over her shoulders.

She wore an elven dress of pale rose. The diaphanous layers nearly swallowed her up so that she looked like a small nymph sitting in the middle of a large flower.

But what caught Orophin's attention was the look on her face. Her lips were curved gently. That soft warm smile he had missed was cautiously returning. Determined to see it in full bloom he walked directly to her.

She caught his movement and turned. Immediately her smile expanded, and his heart was warmed by the sunny expression that was bestowed upon him. He reached for her hand as she stood.

_"Hiril nín,"_

Amarie's smile only grew. "Orophin," her voice was soft but full of many emotions. But all she said was, "I'm so happy to see you."

The warmth in Orophin's chest spread throughout his body. "Have you eaten?"

She nodded. "A little." Her gaze shifted downwards as if she dropped her scattered thoughts on the ground. "I've been well taken care of." She said meeting his eyes again.

There was a faint nervousness to her words. Orophin cocked her head. "What is it, Amarie?"

He watched as she drew her lower lip between her teeth. Then she sighed and gave him a rueful smile. "Nothing. It's just all so much so fast."

He was still holding her hand and he gave it a light squeeze and clasped it between both his hands.

"I understand." He said simply. "Do not fear. I will take care of you."

Her blue eyes seemed all the more vivid under the Lórien lamps, and they shone with a depth of unknown sentiments. But her lips held their soft curve, and he was grateful for it.

"I know."

* * *

_Thoughts? Reviews feed the muse. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	9. Chapter 9

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

Amarie was only in Lothlórien for two weeks. In that time she marveled at everything she saw and heard. The elves were like something from a child's storybook, and their home was so beautiful that she felt like she strayed into a song.

Orophin was always nearby as he had been relegated to training recruits instead of being sent out to the border. This suited both of them. Amarie cherished their evening strolls and she listened with keen interest to everything he had to say.

Her smiles returned, though they were tinged with everything she had seen. Her innocence was gone but not her optimism. The world was a harsh and dangerous place, but it was also majestic and beautiful. _And handsome!_ Always her eyes lingered on Orophin's face. She was drawn to how his eyes lit up and how his lips formed his words.

Out of all the elves she met, he was the most handsome; but she attributed this fact to their friendship. The other elves, while not rude, treated her with some distant courtesy. To them, she seemed like some sort of exotic animal. Whispers followed in her wake. Rumors about who she was and why the Marchwarden's brother cared for her became wild and unsubstantiated. But this all went unheard by Amarie for most of the elven population did not speak Westron, and she didn't know any Elvish.

She saw their smiles as genuine and she gifted them with her own. In her mind, the elves were a wondrous race and very generous. They gave her shelter, food, and even new clothing. The garments she wore were of a quality so fine that she was at first afraid to walk outside lest she dirty them. But her curiosity won over and she explored the tree city with the wide-eyes of a child.

When Orophin was not about she was tended to by one of the Lady's handmaidens. Only two spoke Westron; well, they had enough knowledge of the tongue to guide Amarie, but not to answer all her numerous questions. She quickly learned to save her inquiries for the evening, for then Orophin would come and escort her to dinner.

She awaited the same time each evening with an anticipation that made her heart flutter like a bird in a cage. A strange sort of nervousness caused her to fiddle with the objects in her guest room. She'd pick up a book, set it down; move a vase of flowers; and very often rearrange her hair. She didn't know why she couldn't stay still, but always her heart would jump as he knocked on her door.

Once she saw his welcoming smile a wonderful calm would settle over her. He would offer his hand and she would take it. Always she felt safe and happy when he was near. It pained her heart to know that it soon would end.

"How long will the journey take?" She asked again at dinner. It was the evening before she departed from her fairytale. Her heart was saddened by this but she was anxious to be among her own kind again.

Orophin's clear gaze met hers. A soft smile of understanding was on his lips. Soon they would be parted. But not too soon.

"A little over two weeks to reach Rivendell, and then another several days to reach the abode of the Dúnedain."

While Amarie was not looking forward to walking that far, she was pleased that she would have over a fortnight with Orophin.

That evening they listened to the bards and musicians sing and tell tales one last time. Orophin leaned in close to translate the words for her so she could understand the stories. Prickles raced over her skin as his breath touched her. She longed to face him so that their lips would be closer together, but she wasn't bold enough for that.

But her lips curved, imaging what it would be like.

o0o

During a break of one long epic tale, Orophin rose and extended his hand to the mortal woman. The light of the evening lamps caught in her eyes, illuminating them. Her lips curved in the way he so adored as she placed her hand in his.

He led her away into the trees so that they might enjoy some time to themselves. Once the journey began there would be no privacy for them. Orophin was quiet and Amarie didn't speak either. It was as though she sensed his need to reflect.

He had grown used to having her near and he enjoyed sharing his city with her. To think that tomorrow he would be taking her away to a far distant land caused an unexpected reluctance within him. But of course she couldn't stay in Lothlórien. The Lord and Lady were right; his brothers were right; everyone was right: a mortal woman has no place in the Golden Wood.

Still, Orophin wished it could be otherwise. He took her down a familiar path that led to his favorite garden. Night flowers bloomed, their petals softly glowing as they released their fragrance into the dusky air. Amarie's face lit with happiness and she pulled from his arm to wander through the blossoms. He watched as her fingers lightly caressed the petals with delicate butterfly touches.

Yet as he watched her face he saw the subtle changes that had not been there when back in her warm cottage home. There was a sadness in the curves of her face, lines of experience had been drawn into her features which had not been there before. He was surprised to see them.

He had heard that mortals carry their scars with them their whole lives. What he hadn't known was that the burden of experience could also leave a mark. It grieved him to see her innocence tainted.

When she turned her eyes to him, however, all his regret blew away like insubstantial smoke. Despite the lines and the sorrow Amarie was gloriously beautiful. Not in the way of the elves, but in a different, alluring way. There was something subtly intoxicating about the variances between her and him. She glowed with a divergent sort of flame. She was different from any woman he had known—and those differences _made_ all the difference in his mind.

"I shall miss this garden." She remarked at last in rueful tones.

Orophin's smile was sad. "It shall miss you."

She scoffed at that, causing him to chuckle. He moved to stand by her shoulder and observe the flowers with her. Rarely had he taken the time to just study the royal beauty of the nightshade or the delicate unfurling of a moonflower. But now he observed them as if with new eyes.

"This garden shall last," Amarie said softly. "It will be here when I am gone; and it will still be growing when I have passed. I'm but a traveler. My marks upon the earth will fade into nothing."

A protest rose to his lips. "Nay, Amarie. You shall not be forgotten."

The pull of his gaze was enough to draw hers. In her eyes was a swirling eddy of misgiving. She wanted to believe him—he could see it—but doubt lingered. Orophin dared to brush aside the strands of hair that had fallen over her brow. His fingers lightly touched her cheekbone. Amarie tilted her head towards his hand as if seeking reassurance from the uncertainty that now existed in her life.

He swallowed as her cheek pressed into his palm. She was warm and so very alive against his skin. The whole while she kept her gaze fixed on his. He could see the youth that still lingered in her look, but it seemed she was growing up before his very eyes. It baffled him to see it.

Her lips parted as she inhaled, the action causing his attention to shift to their rose-pink color.

"I believe you."

* * *

_Thoughts? Reviews feed the muse!_

_As always, thanks for reading._


	10. Chapter 10

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

The cloak was the only thing that kept Amarie from freezing. The double-lined garment was trimmed with ermine fur and it cocooned her entire body from head to toe. It rested heavily on her shoulders in a wonderfully luxurious way. It was by far the most generous gift she had received from the elves. Without it Amarie doubted she would survive this trek into the mountains.

They had traveled north in the beginning; following the line of the Misty Mountains. It was late summer down on the plains but snow still covered the tall peaks. When they had finally turned west the trail turned rough and very cold.

A group of eight stout elven warriors, including Orophin, made up her travel party. She had been surprised when a dappled gray palfrey was also brought along. Initially she thought the animal was for baggage but her assumptions had been quickly corrected. The mare was for her to ride.

"This way you will not grow tired on your journey," Orophin's brother Rúmil had jibbed the morning of her departure.

Amarie didn't know whether she should be offended or grateful. But she soon made friends with her mount for she was gentle on the reins and lovingly tended to the creature each evening. This earned the approval of her fellows, who had initially remained reserved and stoic.

As they hiked further into the mountains Amarie had insisted on walking so as not to burden her noble mare on the steep trails. It was hard going no matter what they did to make it easier. When they had at last reached the pass the land leveled out. The land was dusted with snow and the sharp peaks of the mountain's heads reared up like teeth into the blue sky. It was a starkly beautiful place, but bitterly cold.

It had snowed the evening last, and while it did not hinder the elves (for they could walk upon the snow!) it made things trying for Amarie and the mare. The pass was also bitterly windy, day and night. No fires were permitted. The mountain pathways were dangerous and filled with creatures better left to stories.

Amarie never complained, though her body protested everything. At least, she told herself, they were not running. In her mind when she felt particularly weary she would revisit her cottage home in the forest glade. It was so far away now—both in miles and in time. Even if she could return there, nothing would be left. Not even the village. Her lips pulled into a sad line.

That evening the sky was clear as a crystal. The stars shone in the millions, each one like a diamond in the inky black heavens. Amarie studied them avidly for they seemed so close from up here in the mountains. A great shiver wracked her small body and she huddled deeper into her cloak. They had found a scooped out recess in the rock wall and here Amarie had tucked herself in. It at least offered some shelter from the sharp wind.

Her eyes glittered with the celestial lights. How did the stars not freeze up there? Did they not feel the cold? She had never stopped to wonder this before now. Part of her wished she could be like a star. To be so high and removed from the drudgeries and sufferings of life seemed preferable to the miseries she had experienced.

She bit her lip. It would not do to fall into melancholy. This she knew from an early age. But when one is cast out into the wild world it can be hard to cope. At least she had friends. Her thoughts grew muddled but she felt a semblance of warmth as she thought of Orophin: her sweet savior. How funny that she had rescued him, only to have the tables turned. He had repaid his debt to her twice over now; not that she saw it that way. A false heat buoyed up her heart, pulling her away from the aches caused by the cold. It was pleasant.

o0o

The clear night was particularly cold. Without the clouds to trap in the heat of the day, the mountains were cast in jewel-like frost. While not as affected as mortals, the elves felt the chill in the air. They pulled their cloaks around them and raised their hoods against the wind. Even the dappled gray mare shivered. Orophin glanced again at Amarie.

Her eyes were once more staring up at the stars. The faraway look had returned to her face. Her breath misted the air around her. She looked as pale as the snow around them. He hadn't seen her shiver in some time now, and he was growing worried. He had spoken with his fellow warriors but the majority agreed that it was too dangerous to light a fire. Not two nights past they had heard wolves howling; and this night, for all its stillness, seemed restless.

"She is freezing. Our journey will be in vain if she perishes from the cold." He tried arguing again.

But despite the frowns and concerned looks, the majority still agreed: no fire. Orophin sighed through gritted teeth. Then an idea struck him. He turned away towards the mare and led her to the hallow in the rock were Amarie was taking shelter. With gentle coaxing he urged the horse to lie behind her. Amarie watched the proceedings with listless interest.

"Lean back against, Histë." Orophin instructed softly. "She will help keep you warm."

Stiffly, Amarie did so. She grimaced and Orophin was certain her joints and muscles were stiff from the cold as much as from riding. She turned on her side and pressed her face against the horse's middle. A soft smile curved her purplish lips.

Orophin could not tell if it was the pale light or the cold that gave her skin the bluish tint but he worried all the same. Glancing back at his fellows he decided to forgo propriety and sat beside Amarie. He pulled her securely into his embrace. Between the horse and him, she would stay plenty warm.

Amarie didn't say anything but just smiled a bit more. She snuggled close and at last shivered. Heat was finally getting into her body and it was reacting in a normal way.

"Sleep," Orophin whispered against her hooded head.

He felt her relax against him, her gloved left hand curled against his chest. Silently he willed heat into her. While he knew he should not take pleasure in this moment, he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of satisfaction. It felt _right_ to have Amarie in his arms.

He glanced up but no one was paying attention to him. The rest of the party was enforcing their duties as protectors. Orophin dared to kiss Amarie's head through her hood.

_Rest, loscarîn nín. I will protect you._

* * *

_Reviews feed the muse!_

_Thanks for reading. _


	11. Chapter 11

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

The journey through the mountains was the hardest part for Amarie. Nevertheless she counted her blessings that they did not experience any trouble beyond the weather. The cold caused her nose to run and for a cough to linger in her lungs. The decline in her health worried all the elves, but particularly Orophin.

Fearing that the frigid mountain air was causing her illness he had taken to riding behind her on the mare using his cloak and his own body to warm her. Amarie secretly wished that they could always be so close.

While young, and perhaps naïve, she was not blind. She had noted how Orophin lingered by her side. More often than naught, he made concessions for her, and did all in his power to assure her safety and comfort. And there were times when they spoke that she saw a softness in his eyes that made her heart flutter in a thrilling way.

But she knew there could be nothing between them. He was an elf, immortal, and ageless. He had lived for centuries before she was even a thought in her parents' minds. And he would continue to live long after she only dust in the earth. Still, it was pleasant to feel his arms around her as they rode together. The wishful part of her fanaticized on what could be if she was an elf or if he was mortal.

As they left the treacherous mountain highlands, the weather became temperate again. Amarie was no longer in danger of freezing which meant that Orophin no longer shared her saddle. She felt the loss of his physical presence keenly, but he walked by her knee and they conversed throughout the day.

o0o

One of the guards spoke, his voice light and eager. Amarie turned to Orophin in askance.

"He says he can hear water. We are close to Rivendell." He translated.

Her heart lifted and she smiled. Their journey was close to an end. That thought damped her spirits a bit, but she could not help but yearn for a hot meal and a soft bed.

The sun was setting as they entered the outer borders of the Hidden Valley. In the air Amarie caught snatches of music. It grew louder as they continued. Turning down a bend her breath caught. Before her lay a paradise hidden in a fold of the mountains. The deep and wide ravine was green with vegetation. The high walls of the surrounding mountains wept with waterfalls. In the center was Rivendell.

Like with Lothlórien, Amarie felt her breath taken away. It was another fairy city—alike, and yet no so to Lórien. Here she had a sense of agéd majesty. Time did not stop in this realm, but neither did it age it. The paradox was strange and Amarie couldn't describe it even if she tried.

The border guards of Rivendell appeared. With interest she noted that most were dark haired—brunettes to inky blacks. But all were fair of face and had luminous eyes. Amarie watched them curiously as their leader spoke with Orophin.

The Rivendell guards eyed her with open interest that only grew once Orophin introduced her. There seemed to be a keen curiosity among these elves as well as an openness not found in Lórien.

A guide was assigned to them and he led the way down into the valley.

o0o

Rivendell was as he remembered it, though it had been many long years since he had last set foot in Elrond's house. The openness of this peaceful refuge could be seen everywhere—from the architecture to the sky above—to the many strange visitors. Unlike Lothlórien, Rivendell welcomed all good travelers.

Perhaps…just maybe…Amarie could stay here. Orophin leaned against the opening to his room's balcony. From his high vantage point he could see much of the valley. The sun had set but its colors painted the sky and drenched the valley in gold, red, and purple.

The evening meal would soon be served. He had promised to escort Amarie. Unfolding his arms he pushed off the wall and made to prepare himself for dinner.

He was pleased when her encroaching illness dissipated. In his heart he had feared the sickness would take her from him. He knew very little about human health, but he knew that they could die from sicknesses that never afflicted his kind.

In his fear, he had held her for most of their journey through the mountains, both on horseback and while she slept—though he doubted she was aware of the latter. Yet his concern for her wellbeing brought with it a pleasant side affect—he got to be close to her.

He could not deny it any longer. His affections had turned from mere friendship into something more. While he hesitated to call it love, he knew that on some level he had come to care for this young mortal quite ardently. He looked forward to seeing her smile each morning, and was eager to hear her points of view on the word. Often he would say outrageous things just to hear her laugh.

What would he do when he had to let her go? He frowned as he pulled a clean tunic over his head. In truth he dreaded that moment. But it was not here, he reasoned, and so did not require his concern or attention.

When she opened her door, he was greeted with her beautiful smile. The rose-pink lips parted revealing straight white teeth. Her blue eyes fairly glittered with her simple joy at seeing him. When she said his name, his heart lifted as if taken up to the heavens on a cloud.

Yes. He was infatuated. The admission was matter-of-fact, but it seemed to give him the permission to look her over in a new light. He studied the borrowed gown she wore. The rich lavender gown cut in Rivendell style suited her. The deep color contrasted wonderfully with her skin, and her brown hair was left free.

Seeing his perusal she said, "Do I look alright? I wasn't sure if—"

He smiled, arresting her speech. "You are like a flower in bloom."

To his amusement she blushed, and dropped his gaze. "Thank you."

Deciding to make the most of their time left together, he offered her his arm. Their fairytale was not over just yet.

* * *

_Thoughts? Reviews feed the muse!_

_An early chapter since I will not have time to post this weekend._

_Thanks for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

Their week in Rivendell flew by as if it had never been, and all too soon Orophin was saddling up the Lórien mare. The pale dawn brightened into a glorious sunrise. The fresh light filled the valley like elixir in a cup. Everything was softly gilded.

Finished with the girth strap, Orophin straightened and glanced over the mare's back. Nearby, Elrond's sons readied their mounts. They were well known and loved among the Dúnedain tribe, and their connection would assure that Amarie had a place among them. The rest of the Lórien party would remain behind and await his return.

Orophin sighed. His heart was conflicted. He knew this was the right path. Amarie belonged with her own people; and with the Dúnedain she would be afforded protection. Still it bothered him to know they would soon be parted. How could he be certain she was, in fact, safe with this tribe of Men? Could he not do a better job than they?

He patted the mare's neck distractedly. In his mind he recalled the sunny hours spent in Amarie's presence. He loved how her eyes sparkled like blue jewels when she was excited or how her lips would part into a joyous laugh that was so infectious that he had join her. He adored the way she tilted her head as she listened to him, or how her brows would knit when she didn't understand something. Her hands were just as expressive as her face when she talked, and he never grew tired of watching her slender fingers bend, stretch, or flutter.

And nothing was better than the feel of those fingers in his hand. She never hesitated to take his hand. There was great trust in that simple gesture. Ever since he woke in her cabin all those weeks ago, she trusted him with a purity that was truly rare in the world.

Was he betraying her trust now? By leading her to lands unknown, to a people he had only heard of, and leaving her there, would not that violate her faith in him? His hands curled into fists.

A movement caught his eye. Amarie descended the steps that led down to the stable yard. She wore her new riding habit—a gift from Lord Elrond. The tailored fit revealed the woman that her own rustic clothing had hidden. The girlish charm was now matured into ladylike elegance. Even the simple act of putting on her riding gloves seemed filled with grace. The ubiquitous bow that had held her hair back was absence as elven braids now added functional decoration to her chestnut locks.

The surrounding noise and commotion seemed to fall away as Orophin watched her approach. His heart thumped almost painfully when her eyes fell on him. In that same instant her lips parted into that smile—_his_ smile.

Elrohir and Elladan greeted her amiably. Her focus was momentarily distracted by them but she wasn't deterred in her path. She came to a halt before him. Her blue eyes were illuminated from the morning sun. For a moment out of time, he just stared at her, basking in the inner light that she seemed to possess.

"Good morning."

Her voice was unchanged. It sounded as sweet and kind as ever, and it drew Orophin back into the present. _"Aurvaer,"_ he swept up one of her gloved hands and lifted it to his lips. He met her eyes, and pressed his free hand over the spot he had kissed, holding it there.

Amarie's smile broadened even as she shyly dropped his gaze. But it was only a moment before she looked at him again. "Part of me is not ready to leave. Rivendell is truly a haven."

"It will be less bright without your presence, Amarie," Elrohir called from his horse's back.

"But its doors will be ever open to you." Elladan said winking at her before he swung up into his own saddle.

Orophin waited impatiently to regain her attention. Unintentionally he squeezed her fingers. She looked to him. "Should you ever travel by the Golden Wood, her forests shall welcome you."

It was a presumptuous thing to say. Lothlórien was his home but he was not its ruler nor had he the status to utter such words, but they felt right. He _had_ to say them, if only to plant the seed in her mind. He would have her return one day... Amarie's eyes softened and she squeezed his hand back, distracting him from his thoughts.

He assisted her onto the mare's saddle then swung up on his borrowed gelding. The four of them rode out of Rivendell as the sun crested the mountains.

o0o

It would take a week before they reached the settlement of the Dúnedain, but it was only a matter of days before they met their first rangers. Amarie was curious about them. They were rough looking, dressed in garments that made them seem invisible against the wild lands. They spoke softly but eloquently. If she hadn't known better she would have called them elf-like, for they seemed as skilled in woodcraft as the First Born.

When they had appeared, Orophin was ready to defend her. His clear eyes were hard as they swept out of the trees. His able hands had moved to his sword. But Elrond's sons were quick to laugh and tease both Orophin and the rangers.

Five of them traveled now with Amarie and her party to the village. Most were older, closer to her father's age, had he been alive. But there was one who was younger. His hazel eyes were sharp like a hawk's and he seemed to miss nothing.

A strange shiver ran down Amarie's spine whenever he looked at her. Devorin was his name, and he was of noble blood. His grandfather was the chieftain of the Dúnedain. His face was handsome but not in the way of the elves. Even so, it peaked her feminine sensibilities. Devorin rarely spoke but when he did, his voice reminded her of the wind rustling through the trees. It was a lovely voice, deep and almost hypnotic. And it caused all sorts of strange feelings to mix in her stomach. The foreign feelings made her rather nervous.

At night she would always settle near Orophin. She craved his steady presence and the safety she felt when near him. How she longed for him to take her in his arms, and indeed he seemed to want the same thing, but it would not be proper. Still, there were times when an arm brushed, or a shoulder touched, and it appeared accidental, but was not.

Orophin seemed to not care for these Dúnedain, and Amarie had to wonder at that. It was his idea to bring her to them. Was he having second thoughts? She pondered the idea frequently throughout that week. And she did so again when they stopped on their last evening on the road.

She moved off towards the nearby stream to fill the water skins. In her mind she wondered again about Orophin. Her golden elf was never far from her side. How would it be when he finally returned home beneath the golden trees? He had become a part of her life, a much cherished part. It made her heart sore to think of being parted from him.

Stooping down at the river's edge she began filling the skins. There was precious little light left. Autumn was rapidly approaching and the sun seemed in a hurry to set. Completing her task she rose and jumped.

"Orophin!" She pressed a hand to her fluttering heart, and then laughed softly. "You quite nearly scared the life out of me."

He smirked. "Hardly. You are much too stout of spirit for such a thing to happen."

Graceful as a stag, he leapt down from his perch on a high rock and stooped to pick up the water skins. Amarie made to protest but he merely grinned and hefted them over his broad shoulder.

"You shouldn't be out here alone." He said casting his bright gaze about.

Amarie listened but heard nothing that would cause her to worry and said so. Orophin ignored her comment in favor of tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. Together they headed back towards the camp. It was not far, but still enough distance away so the water wouldn't distract the ears of the rangers.

"Tomorrow we will reach the village." Amarie said when the silence between them became too much for her.

Orophin hummed in agreement. There was a fine tension that seemed to ripple through his arm.

"I am eager to see it. Do you think all the Dúnedain are as dour as their rangers?"

The elf glanced sideways at her. "I cannot say."

Amarie frowned and stopped walking. Orophin halted and turned to face her. He looked at her in askance.

"Orophin, what is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are unhappy." She must have been right for the elf immediately dismissed her remark while refusing to meet her eyes.

"Nay. I just want you safe." He inhaled deeply. "The sooner we reach the village, the sooner you will be safe."

He continued to avoid her gaze. Grasping her courage she dared to turn his face towards hers. The skin on his cheek was soft and she allowed her fingers to glide down to his chin.

"I am safe when I'm with you."

His luminous gaze seemed to grow rich with color, the silvery gray turning into dark blue. He caught her hand as she lowered it, and pressed her fingers to his lips. This time there were no gloves to separate his lips from her skin. A thrilling shiver raced through her body.

He cupped her cheek and speaking in his native tongue he said, _"Dear, sweet loscarîn nín! You know not the fear and joy you put into my heart." _His thumb followed the curve of her cheek. He swallowed. "If it were in my power, I would see that you were always safe with me," he said in Westron.

Amarie exhaled through her lips. Her heart was knocking against her ribs as if desperate to escape its cage. A hazy heat filled her body, but she felt each sensation acutely. It was like standing in a fire, yet the burn was pleasurable.

She saw Orophin glance down at her lips before holding her gaze again. _"Carin vertha?"_

Her lips pursed in preparation to ask what he meant, but before she could voice the question his lips touched hers. Shocked, she froze. Never before had she been kissed. The bombardment of sensations licked through her entire body like a bolt of lightening.

The kiss was tender and full of caring, but at the same time Amarie felt a certain urgency behind it. Hesitantly she kissed him back, pressing softly against him. It was as if he had been waiting for such a cue, for immediately his arm curved around her back. The hand at her face slid down to her shoulder then snaked around her neck.

There was no space left between them. Amarie delighted in the firm solid strength of the elf that held her close. Her hands, which had been pressed against his chest, curled into the fabric of his clothes, holding on for dear life. A heat seemed to build between her thighs up to her chest. She pulled on his tunic wanting somehow to bring him closer.

She parted her lips to take a breath, but it was nearly stolen away as his tongue met hers. She sighed blissfully. The kiss seemed endless, but it did slowly come to a stop. Orophin nuzzled her softly, his forehead resting against hers.

He ran a hand down her spine, pressing her to him. _"Aiya loscarîn nín! Amman boenae sen?" _

Amarie shuddered softly at the thick emotion in Orophin's voice. She clung to him, keeping her eyes closed. Vainly she hoped that it would help make this dream last a bit longer.

* * *

_Thoughts? Reviews feed the muse! _

_It seems this story keeps growing. I know where it will end but I can't say what will happen on the journey! Thank you all who have followed and reviewed. I'm delighted so many of you like this story. _

_Carin vertha? - Do I dare?_

_Aiya loscarîn nín! Amman boenae sen? - Aiya my noble brown-haired lady! Why must it be this? (e.g. Why must it be like this? or Why must it be this way?)_


	13. Chapter 13

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

Upon returning to camp Amarie made the concerted effort to appear as normal as possible. It was hard. Her senses felt elevated and they were tuned to the elf that walked with her. His hand drifted to the small of her back, guiding her over the rough terrain. Her skin tingled.

To say she was surprised was not adequate. No. She was completely floored. He had kissed her! And she kissed him back. She had, for a moment, abandoned all reason and gave into the delightful sensation of intimacy. He had awakened feelings and sensations that she never knew she had. Even now her body hummed with a strange anticipation.

Yet as the camp came into view with its mortal rangers, Amarie was pulled back to earth. So Orophin had kissed her. It wasn't a declaration of love. Perhaps he too had felt the attraction that simmered between them and had decided to experiment. Perhaps it meant nothing to him.

But the vivid color of his eyes, the urgent gripping of his fingers, and the moan from deep within his throat begged otherwise. Amarie bit her lip. What did it mean?

As they stepped back into the camp Amarie felt the keen glance of the young ranger Devorin. Those eyes of his missed nothing, and she half feared he would see the effects of Orophin's kiss. Straightening her spine she walked with a confidence she did not feel.

The twin sons of Elrond greeted her and she gave them her usual sunny smile. The rangers were also the recipients of her warmth, though her eyes lost some it as they met Devorin's.

"We should bring something to the village." Elladan said. "It would do much to bring goodwill if we caught a stag."

Elrohir nodded. "Aye. And goodwill is what you need, Amarie, _mellon nín." _He winked at her.

She glanced up in surprise. Unsure of what to say she kept silent.

The rangers agreed with the suggestion, though. It had been some time since the village had any good meat. Game had grown scarce. This, they said with assurity was due to the rising darkness.

"It creeps down from the mountains. Goblins, trolls, and orcs," said Brogan, the eldest of the rangers.

The twin brothers frowned and began questioning the ranger in earnest. Orophin appeared distressed by the news. His face grew blank as he listened to their conversation.

Amarie frowned too. Was not the whole point of this journey to get her away from such dangers? She squeezed her skirts between her fingers. Was nowhere safe? Feeling eyes she glanced up. Devorin was watching her hands. Slowly he met her gaze.

His hazel eyes were solemn. In them Amarie could see the forest. He seemed wild and untamed, yet in total possession of himself. Her heart skipped and she dropped his piercing gaze.

"Let us go before we loose more of the light." Elladan declared.

Amarie blinked, not realizing she had missed the rest of the discussion.

"Come, Orophin. Your keen eyes will be a boon." Elrohir clapped a friendly hand on the golden elf's shoulder. He, however, frowned.

"And who will stay with Amarie?" He hedged. "I will not leave her alone."

"She will be safe." Brogan assured him. "Devorin shall stay behind."

The young ranger glanced to his captain. Something moved behind his eyes but he nodded elegantly. "As you command."

Amarie saw Orophin's frown deepen. He looked ready to object but Elladan pointed out that with the three of them leading the hunt, it would end sooner. This did little to thaw the disgruntled look on Orophin's face, but finally he nodded.

Approaching Devorin, the elf used his impressive height and presence to look down on the young man.

"Guard her with your life."

Devorin rose smoothly and put his fist over his heart and bowed his head. "I swear by Elbereth that no harm shall come to the lady."

While decidedly displeased, Orophin nodded. Amarie could easily see that her golden elf was still unhappy about all this. He approached her and she stood. She gave him a gentle smile.

"Hurry back, aye?"

His face softened. The corners of his lips titled. "Aye." Then reaching towards the knife that hung from his belt, he drew it and pressed into her hands. He left her with a meaningful look before turning and following the hunters.

Amarie watched as Orophin faded into the twilight. Then her eyes slide sideways. Devorin was watching her.

o0o

Orophin followed Elrond's sons angrily. Already he was regretting leaving Amarie behind. He should have stayed.

"You will frighten the game away before we even have a chance to take a single shot!" Elrohir jabbed at him.

"I think I shall return."

"Peace _Galadhel!_ She is in safe hands." Elrohir grinned. "I have known Devorin since he was a babe in arms. He is an able warrior. And noble. No harm shall come to your _adaneth._"

Orophin scowled. _Noble indeed!_ He did not care for how the young ranger looked at Amarie. It was too inquiring. Too _bold._

"I've found a trail!" Elladan called from ahead.

Elrohir and the rangers quickly sprinted forward. Orophin followed more slowly. More than once he glanced back the way they came.

"Come, Orophin! We are not far." Elrohir waved him on.

With a sigh Orophin followed. He hoped the dark-haired elf was right.

o0o

Amarie tried to look busy. She reorganized her pack, then went about preparing the fire for dinner. Whatever the hunters caught would be reserved for the village. But there was food enough here to make something.

She did her best to ignore Devorin. The young man's eyes had yet to leave her. Finally she had enough.

"Do you mind? It is rude to stare."

The hazel eyes were unaffected by her protest. A glimmer flashed in them that she didn't understand. Finally he spoke.

"Your pardon, my lady."

His deep voice made little shivers dance on her skin. He was so strange! Not at all like the men she was used to dealing with. In her village, she had grown accustomed to the men calling out at her, and watching her with thinly veiled interest. Some of the bolder ones had plucked at her hair or skirts. Such behavior she was used to. But this?

She frowned at Devorin. "Why do you stare at me so?"

The ranger's brows lifted slightly. "I do not think I stare any differently from the others."

"That is ridiculous," she sniffed. "The others do not _stare_ at all."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. The sound made her heart jump wildly. "That is not quite true."

"Are you saying I'm a liar?"

He shook his head softly. "Nay. But I do think that you do not mind the stares of the others—or at least one other."

Amarie opened her mouth to retort but had nothing to say. Snapping her lips shut she crossed her arms and leveled a stern look at him.

"Do not make assumptions."

Devorin dipped his head. "Again, I ask your pardon, my lady."

She eyed him, not entirely sure if she could trust him. "You will only have if," she paused and waited for his hazel eyes to meet hers. "If you help me catch some fish."

The expression on his face must have been surprise, but Amarie was used to seeing very little emotion from him, so she was unsure. Slowly he nodded then stood.

"Very well." He held out his hand to her and after a moment's hesitation she took it.

His palm was rough. She could feel the thick calluses earned through hard work. There was strength in his hand. He helped her rise with no apparent effort. And yet, his hand was gentle. And respectful. Somehow Amarie felt that she could trust him, though his very presence made her want to squirm.

A cautious smile curved her lips. She met his eyes trying to discern the thoughts behind them. He was a complicated man, she realized. There was more to him than she originally thought. Part of her was curious to know more about this quiet ranger.

Together they went to the stream. Devorin led her down to an outcropping of rocks. It was the same rocks that Orophin had perched on before joining her below. And over there, he had…

Quickly Amarie tucked the thought away.

Under Devorin's guidance, Amarie learned how to "tickle" fish. By lying on their bellies and reaching their hands down into the stream, they could entice silver scaled trout to their fingers by waving them gently. The curious fish would come to investigate. Then in a movement faster than the eye could see, they would scoop the fish up and onto the bank.

Devorin was decided more skilled at this than Amarie, but she laughed merrily at her own miserable attempts. She did manage to catch _one_ fish. Her triumphant face had drawn a full smile from the young ranger.

"Ah! So you do know how."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Know how to what?"

"Smile."

The ranger gave her a dry look, but this time Amarie laughed. She missed how his face softened slightly.

Taking their catch back to camp, Amarie told Devorin about her cottage and her family, and how she had come to meet Orophin. The ranger was a good listener. Together they cleaned the fish and roasted them over the fire.

o0o

The moon was rising before they managed to catch anything. Elladan had shot a pheasant, but it was Orophin who had eventually spotted the buck. With reflexes honed by centuries of practice, he made a clean kill. However, the thing about deer is that they are much heavier than pheasants. The weight of the animal slowed them down. It was all Orophin could do to hem in his growing impatience.

The campfire came into view, and Amarie's sweet voice drifted towards them. Orophin frowned. She should be more quiet. Anyone could hear them.

The scent of roasting fish caught his attention, and he saw seven trout suspended above the fire. His stomach made a noise of approval. Elladan heard it and grinned. Ignoring him, Orophin sought Amarie's eyes.

She looked to him immediately. Her lips curved in that special way that made his spirits rise. He relaxed. He did not realize how much his inner self would protest being away from her. Though he chalked that up to anxiety about leaving her with the young ranger.

To his credit, Devorin sat at a respectable distance. His eyes, while not as keen as an elf's, had turned in their direction long before Amarie was aware of them.

"We've made you all some supper." She announced. "Since it would be unkind to your bellies to hunt and yet not fill them."

Once fed, everyone reclined. Watches were designated. Orophin guided Amarie to her bedroll. He drew the blanket over her and tucked some errant locks behind her rounded ear.

"Sleep, _loscarîn nín. _I will protect you."

She smiled softly and reached up, her fingers touching his cheek. Orophin tilted into the touch. Then grasping them, he pressed a kiss to those soft fingers. Straightening he prepared to keep watch from his own bedroll near hers.

Feeling eyes upon him, he looked up. Hazel met gray as, Orophin stared down the young ranger. Devorin's face betrayed nothing, but Orophin did not care to be so scrutinized. He looked back, unflinchingly arching a brow. The youth looked away first, but somehow Orophin did not feel the victory he thought he would.

* * *

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	14. Chapter 14

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

It was not, by any means, impressive. As they climbed the last hill they saw it: the Dúnedain village. The grey atmosphere sucked out any last remnant of life. Some thirty perhaps forty odd wooden dwellings were clustered about in a strip of land that was surrounded by woods of evergreens. All were thatched with sodden grasses. The heavy mist dripped off the straw roofs. It gave Orophin the impression that the village was weeping.

Gray skies, gray stones, gray mud. Everything was devoid of color and vivacity. There wasn't even a wall around the village. How did these people survive? As they drew nearer, the frown on his lips turned into an outright scowl. This was not what he had envisioned for Amarie.

As they entered the village, faces poked out from windows and doorways. To their credit, the Dúnedain people did not shrink from the drizzling weather. Although they did not put themselves out in it needlessly either.

They passed by crofts where entire families shared one possibly two rooms. More often than not, beasts occupied the room next to the families' living quarters. The smell of hay, cattle, and goats was strong.

Some hardy sheep grazed out in the neighboring fields. Their gray wool protected them from all inclement weather. It was this wool which was spun into the clothing that kept the people warm. In fact, Rivendell was a frequent buyer of Dúnedain wool, for although it looked shabby, it was incredibly fine. And once bleached and dyed, it could be made into the finest of elven cloths.

Orophin was less than impressed.

As they approached the one stone building, a tall graying man approached them. His clear eyes matched the heaven's, and were as hard as flint. A rough whitish beard covered his face. There was a scar that ran over his nose from left to right. It ended on his cheekbone. It was clear that he was lucky to be alive. Such a wound would have killed a lesser man.

_"Mae govannen," _he said in flawless Elvish. "It is always an honor to welcome Elrond's sons to our village."

Elladan and his brother sketched the formal elven greeting, murmuring words of blessing and felicity. The elder's eyes held a modicum of warmth as he greeted the brothers. Something like an old memory passed through his eyes before they shifted to Orophin and Amarie.

"Welcome, _Galadhel,_ to our humble village. It has been many years since one of the Golden Wood has graced our abode."

Orophin dipped his head politely, but did not smile. "Need has brought us here." He rested his hand at the small of Amarie's back. She shifted slightly but her eyes quickly demurred as the elder's glance fell on her.

"I am Braruthien, chieftain of the Dúnedain. If it is my power, I will see that all your needs are succored. Long have the elves aided us. If we can return the favor, we will do it."

Before further introductions were made, Braruthien beckoned them inside the stone hall. To conduct hospitality out in the drizzle would have been a breech of polite custom.

The inside of the hall was dark but warmly lit by lanterns and a large hearth fire. The air was smoky but at least it was dry. Stout young men quickly took the buck and pheasants to the kitchens. Orophin was slightly heartened when he caught a glimpse of Amarie smiling. While this was not a cozy place to him, she seemed pleased enough.

Ale and hot tea were offered. More pleasantries were had before the matter of Amarie came to the fore.

Braruthien leaned back in his high-backed chair and studied the young woman. "Now I would have your tale, mistress, for a tale it must be since you travel with one of the Golden Realm's warriors."

The table hid the threading together of her fingers, but Orophin sat near her and caught the nervous gesture. He spoke on her behalf, relating how he came to know her and be in her care.

This was news to Elrond's sons and they listened with avid interest. Brogan and Devorin had also stayed behind, being kin to the chieftain and welcome at his table. They listened as well. Orophin missed the attentive look Devorin gave Amarie.

When he had finished his tale, Braruthien sat silent for a time. He rubbed his upper lip in a thoughtful manner as he studied Amarie.

"Truly, mistress, you are an elf-friend." He said, and the elven brothers agreed. "It is a true sorrow that your home and village were destroyed. There is great evil that lurks in the world. Good folk do what they can to combat it."

His eyes grew distant, seeing battles that were beyond her years. Then, refocusing on her he said, "If you wish it, I will welcome you into my house."

"I would be most thankful for your protection, my lord." She replied softly, though her expression was one of profound relief and gratitude.

The chieftain hummed slightly as if in dry amusement. "Have you some skill, mistress? Spinning or weaving, perhaps?"

"I can do both. And I can cook as well, my lord."

Involuntarily, Orophin thought of the lovely dinners in her cottage, and the delicious raspberry jams she made. A new disappointment landed in his heart. He had not really considered that the loss of her would also entail the loss of her savory jams.

A smile touched Braruthien's mouth. "A woman of many talents. That is well."

And so the arrangement was made. Amarie would enter Braruthien's household as both cook and spinning maid. To seal the deal, they drank to it. Much to Orophin's shock, Amarie partook of the ale that was offered—and drained her goblet.

"A feast!" Braruthien called. "Tonight we celebrate friends old and new."

o0o

Belly full and senses still somewhat intoxicated, Amarie sank down on her pallet. She was sharing the room of Yvés, grand-niece of Braruthien. The maiden was sweet if not a little quiet. These Dúnedain were not given over to boisterous displays of emotion. In many ways, they seemed to share similar qualities with the elves. Yet not to the eye, very little seemed comparable to the elves. Still it was more familiar than the cities of the First Born, and she took some comfort in that. She would not feel so out of place here.

While their village was humble, it was meticulously maintained. Each home was lovingly looked after, and Amarie could appreciate the simple pride that came with living in a place made from one's own hands.

The house where her shared room was situated belonged to Brogan. His wife was niece to Braruthien, and Yvés was his daughter. Amarie counted herself lucky that she did not end up in Devorin's family's house. His father was Braruthien's middle son. He rode often in the northern hills, Yvés explained. They kept the trolls and foul monsters of the icy north at bay.

"Devorin is not like his father. Uncle Turin has a joyful soul. The darkness of the world cannot breach his heart." Yvés declared.

"Then why is his son so…" Amarie bit her lip not wanting to say the wrong thing.

"So solemn you mean?"

Amarie nodded.

"I can't really say, though I think it comes from his mother."

"Is she solemn as well?"

Yvés looked suddenly sad. "Nay. She is dead."

Amarie gasped and put a hand to her mouth. Yvés didn't explain further, and Amarie didn't feel like she should ask any more. But her heart went out to the young ranger. She knew all too well the pain the loss of a parent could bring.

Thinking of loss she grimaced. Orophin would be leaving; tomorrow or perhaps the day after. Either way it was soon. She knew it was inevitable. He could not stay in a village of men any more than she could stay in a city of elves. But the ways of the heart do not follow the ways of reason.

There was a pain in her chest, and she pressed a hand to the spot that ached. Beneath her palm her heart beat mournfully.

"Orophin…"

She heard the outer door open. Thinking it was Yvés, she quickly composed herself, yet a knock on the door made her pause. A frown tugged on her lips. Yvés would not knock on her own door. Was it Brogan?

Grabbing her cloak, for she was dressed only in her nightgown and had no robe, she moved to open the door. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth hung open when she saw who stood on her threshold.

His eyes were dark yet luminous—like blue gems lit with a secret fire. The candlelight touched the contours of his face making him appear all the more foreign. He was a star beyond her reach; but that did not stop her heart from craving the starlight.

Those intense eyes looked her over intently as if reading some story that she was unaware of. Then, as if she was standing outside herself, she saw his hand lift and touch her face. The feel of his fingers on her cheek was like a jolt of reality, but she didn't move beyond sighing through her lips.

_"Loscarîn nín," _he whispered. There was a thread in his voice that she did not understand, but it made the pain in her chest increase. Without warning or reason tears touched her eyes. She turned her face away and stepped back.

"You should not be here." She said while grasping for composure. "Yvés or her father could return at any moment."

Her golden elf's face fell for a moment. Then he tilted his head as if listening. After a pause he said, "Nay. All still remain in the feast hall."

Amarie didn't know how he could possibly know that, but she didn't bother asking. She took another step back and turned towards her pallet, unable to face him. It hurt too much.

"Amarie." He sounded like he was in pain too, and it only added to her own. She heard the door creak but it didn't close. For several moments the only sound was from the faint flickering of the candle in its ceramic base.

"Amarie," he sounded much closer this time. She turned her face slightly and could see just behind her his tall figure. There was a hesitant movement and then his hands rested on her shoulders very lightly.

_"Loscarîn nín, _why do you hide your face from me?"

She grimaced and looked up at the ceiling. "Because," her voice sounded thick and she swallowed. "Because if I look at you, then you will have to leave all the sooner, and…"

His hands squeeze her shoulders.

"And I don't think…"

He turned her about. Amarie squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around his sturdy waist. She clung to him feeling desperate to hold on to her fairytale. The only thing that soothed her aching heart was the tight embrace he gave her in return.

She felt his lips touch her hair, then move to her temple. Without her permission a tear leaked from her eye. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she forcefully held back the sob that wanted to erupt from her throat.

She didn't want this. Nay, she had never even asked for it!

Her golden elf was murmuring softly in his beautiful language. Words she didn't understand washed over her and she clung to them, trying to memorize their beautiful sound.

They held each other for a long time. Both were loath to let the moment end. Finally Orophin's grip slackened and he drew back slightly.

"Let me see your face, _loscarîn." _His fingers found her chin and he lifted it up.

Amarie kept her eyes closed. She missed his frown, but she felt his thumb gently wipe the moist trace that ran from her eye down the side of her nose. Still moving it stroke across her lips. Her breath escaped them and she fought with the sudden urge to take his thumb into her mouth.

It might have been her imagination, but she thought she heard him inhale sharply.

"Will you not let me see your eyes, dear one?"

She pressed her lips together then swallowing she opened her eyes. He was so close—and so tall. He positively glowed golden in the candlelight. Mesmerized, Amarie lifted a hand to touch his face, just to assure herself that he was indeed real. He leaned into her hand, though he never broke eye contact with her.

Cupping her hand with his, he clasped it and brought her palm to his lips. The kiss he pressed there was so sensual, so _intimate_, that it made Amarie tremble. He then positioned her hand over his heart. She felt it pulsing quickly under his chest.

With his other hand he stroked her cheek then threaded his fingers into her hair.

"How I wish things could be different," he murmured, watching his fingers in her dark hair. He sighed and leaned forward to rest his head against hers. Their noses touched. His lips were only a scant distance from hers. They shared a breath.

"The temptation is almost too much, _loscarîn."_

She moved her face slightly, hesitantly nuzzling him. Her senses were overwhelmed. She felt both shy and strongly compelled.

"What do you mean?"

Orophin rubbed his nose along hers, his breath warmed her lips. Both his hands moved to wrap around her, drawing her in.

"I think I regret bringing you here."

Slowly Amarie drew back. She wanted to see his face. When their eyes met, his gaze seemed almost indigo. One arm tightened around her waist, the fingers of that hand gripped her hip. The other floated up to her face once more. His thumb traced the rise and fall of her cheek, outlined the line of her jaw, before caressing her lips once more.

"I am beginning to see that I should have fought to keep you."

She blinked, unsure of what he meant by this. It confused her. Yet her heart thrilled to hear it, even while it questioned his words.

His fingers titled her chin up. Deep eyes roved over her face then down to her lips. He met her eyes again. _"Garich nin." _

The feel of his lips was not so much of a shock this time. But the anticipation of the contact made her feel dizzy with a strange desire. When they finally touched hers, she felt at once debilitated and empowered. Both her arms encircled him and she pressed against his chest without hesitation. A soft mew was drawn from her heart to her throat.

His hands moved over her restlessly. Alternately they smoothed then gripped her as if trying to find a way past the layers of fabric that covered her. She gasped when her back touched the wall. She had not realized they moved.

A strange almost growl sounded from deep within her elf's chest as he found his way past her cloak to the relatively thin nightgown beneath. Amarie shifted her own hands, exploring his body as boldly as he explored hers. She stroked the strong column of his neck then traced the line of his ear.

He convulsed as she reached the tip, and he broke their kiss to gasp for air. But only a moment later her was kissing her again, this time with more aggression. He moved over her, molding his body daringly against hers. Something grew and pressed against her middle. Amarie arched against it, blindly rolling her hips forward. Instinct seemed to drive her.

Orophin fisted a hand in her hair, the other clamped onto her hip.

_"Lúthag nin…i Valar gar rhach nin!" _

Amarie shuddered. _This is a dream,_ she thought. And if it was, she didn't want to wake from it.

* * *

_Thoughts? Reviews feed the muse!_

_I've decided to post two chapters this week because I love you readers._

_As always, thanks for reading!_

_Garich nin. - Y__ou possess me._

_Lúthag nin…i Valar gar rhach nin! - __You enchant me…the Valar have cursed me!_


	15. Chapter 15

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

Shadows danced, breaking the gold into abstract patterns on the forest floor. Broad green leaves laughed as the wind tickled them. Summer had come again to the Golden Wood and life was full of joy.

A towhee sang in the branches; its song happy. But it did not cheer Orophin. A year had passed since he met that mortal maiden. Months bled by since he left her far in the north. Month after dreary month had sucked the joy right out of him.

He had returned to Lothlórien just as the first snow touched the lower lands. His heart was sore. His friends had frowned at his despondency, but shrugged it off as a temporary infatuation. They teased him. Even his youngest brother Rúmil had cajoled him saying that it was his stomach that missed Amarie the most.

Orophin tried to put her from his mind. He joined in every festival and celebration he could; flirted with pretty elf-maids, and got himself drunker than he had ever been. None of it helped.

When he found himself alone, at home or on the borders, his thoughts betrayed him. She ran through his dreams, her laughter filling his ears, and her touch ghosting on his skin. It was driving him mad.

In desperation he tried courting several _ellyth_, but to no avail. His heart wasn't in it. He despaired. Would he feel like this forever? Resigned to his fate, he gave up trying to distract himself. Instead he allowed his heart to pine, and his spirit to weep.

Yet as the seasons changed the blaring pain turned into a dull ache. Those that observed him believed that he had at last let go of his fixation. All except one: Haldir saw more than most; and he saw how his middle brother still grieved.

He approached him now. Orophin was the picture of unrequited love. And it disturbed Haldir far more than he cared to admit.

Orophin shifted; a clear sign that he was aware of his elder sibling.

"What news?"

Orophin didn't answer, or make any sign that he had heard the question. Haldir waited.

"Nothing to report." He said after a long moment. Orophin's voice was dull.

"That is well, then."

_"Hm-hmph."_

Only the sounds of the forest rest between them. Finally Haldir spoke again, unable to keep himself from saying what lay in his heart.

"I warned you."

Orophin said nothing.

"There is peril in caring for a mortal. To give your heart to one is to invite grief and despair." Haldir paused, waiting for his brother to look up. Orophin remained staring blankly out over the forest. Haldir sighed. "I do not understand you. She was hardly a beauty. Sweet, but nothing more."

He half expected his brother to rise up in furious defense, but he did no such thing. It seemed that Orophin was in some other place.

Finally: "She had the light of the Valar within her. Her sweetness pushed her to reach out and help a stranger—to care for him…for _me._" He sighed. "Nay, she had not the classic beauty of our people, but she had a loveliness all her own."

Haldir folded his arms, unconvinced. "Perhaps. But she was young—and naïve. She was like a spring flower. Soon enough her fall will come."

Orophin shook his head faintly. "Young, aye, but not naïve. Her purity made her seem so, but she lived alone for some time before I came along. She fended for herself. And when danger came she fought it as she could…never once did she complain, brother." His hair danced as he shook his head more forcefully. "That is more than we can say for the _ellyth_ here."

Turning he looked to Haldir. His eldest brother's face was stony. Yet there was an undercurrent of concern buried beneath. Orophin knew he feared for him. He could not say that the fear was unfounded.

"Say not that you gave your heart to her." Haldir commanded…pleaded.

Orophin looked back towards the northwest. "She claims most of it."

A wave of uneasy dread washed over the brothers. Haldir gripped his sibling's shoulder.

"You must let her go. Let go of this affection for her—relegate it to nothing more than love for a friend."

Orophin glanced sideways at him. "I am not sure I can."

o0o

Spring was late in coming so it was with great relief that Amarie greeted the summer. Winter had been hard on her. While not a southerner, she had lived much further south than the Dúnedain village. Winters were gentler where she was from. She had spent most of the season indoors near a fire and wrapped in furs.

Still it had not been entirely horrible. The community quickly integrated her and she had work aplenty. Yvés became a fast friend, and her family quickly adopted Amarie as one of their own.

The elders smiled at her and approved of her fastidious nature. She was not one to sit idly by.

The young rangers all found her intriguing with her brunette hair and jewel-like eyes. Compared to them, she was exotic. This she found amusing for as far as she saw it, _they_ were the exotic ones.

Yet out of all the rangers who vied for her attentions and favors there was one who refused to compete. Devorin always watched from the sidelines, refusing to make a spectacle of himself to gain her affections. His quiet ways reminded Amarie of a lone wolf—and like a wolf he was fiercely loyal to his own.

Whenever Amarie wished to go into the forest he was there to guard her steps. If she desired to ride, he accompanied her. And when she was alone in the kitchens he would always turn up just in time to lick the spoon.

He was a quiet young man, but keen of wit and mind. To her great surprise, he had a sense of humor that could reduce her to tears. She came to depend on his quiet fidelity. And he wasn't all that bad looking either.

The more time they spent together the more she learned of who he was. He, like her, was orphaned. His father had been slain in battle; his mother and younger sister carried off by plague. Were it not for his uncles and the Dúnedain clan, he would have no one.

She in turn told him more about herself—of her father and mother, and her brothers. She told him about her little cottage, and her two horses and the chickens. She explained in more detail how she had come to know Orophin and her experiences of the Golden Wood, the mountains, and Rivendell. Through it all he listened attentively.

He never offered false sympathy, and so she found his words genuine. They were in a many ways a balm to her weary soul.

But she missed Orophin.

At night she would dream of her golden elf. She saw him standing tall and graceful amid impossibly lofty trees. The wind would play in his clothes, comb his hair… She would sigh. Sometimes she dreamed of his kisses. The feel of his hands caressing her gently then with growing urgency would be so real that she would wake moaning.

Always she would freeze upon awaken, fearing that she disturbed Yvés.

When the sorrow of his absence became too much she would retreat to his gift to her. It had arrived a month after he left, delivered by the twins of Rivendell. It was a harp of her very own, fashioned in the elvish style and made just for her. Hence its delayed arrival.

She had quite nearly cried when she saw it. Everyday she laid her fingers to the strings to practice what he had taught her. The single Dúnedain bard taught her more, and slowly she grew accomplished.

Only recently she began composing her own melody. This she told no one—not Yvés nor Devorin. It was her secret—her song to the elf who had saved her. She dearly hoped he would return soon for a visit. Until then, she would practice her music.

o0o

"I saw them just beyond the hill," Amarie said, tugging on her gloves. Even though summer had arrived, it could still be chilly this far north. Just two nights previous frost had covered the ground.

She picked up her basket and faced Devorin. The ranger was dressed in his usual attire of worn woolens. Light stubble was on his face, and if she didn't know better she would have thought him unkempt. Secretly though, she thought the light beard gave him a rakish look. Her heart fluttered just a bit when she looked at him.

"You are certain?" His timbre was deep and it always tickled her ears to hear it.

"Yes, of course!" She knew he was merely trying to rile her—and he was succeeding.

"But what if a bear ate them all by now?"

Amarie rolled her eyes. "The odds of that happening are—"

"Quite likely." Brogan said appearing in the great hall's kitchen. "One was sighted nearby yesterday. Keep a wary eye." He looked meaningfully at Devorin.

The young ranger straightened and nodded solemnly.

Amarie merely thinned her lips. She was less afraid of bears than of orcs or trolls—both of which were known to roam the outlying foothills. Grabbing her cloak she smiled at Brogan.

"We'll be careful."

Without further ado, she left the kitchen knowing that Devorin would be just behind. She sighed with a smile as the warm sun touched her face. While she missed the hot lazy summers of her home, she found that the sun stayed out longer here in the north.

Devorin had told her that in the height of summer it barely set at all. This she wasn't so sure she believed. But part of her hoped it was true.

Striking out on the northern trail they entered the lightly wooded forest. Birds of all kinds sang and flitted about; bees and butterflies glittered in the light; and flowers! There were all kinds, and Amarie smiled to seem them all.

Devorin kept easy pace with her, his steps silent compared to hers. They walked in companionable silence. Amarie enjoyed how easy they had become with one another. Glancing over her shoulder she tossed him a smile.

The gathering of strawberries was a time consuming process, but quite rewarding. Devorin watched as she set about her business. Finally she called to him.

"This basket will fill faster if you help me."

He gave her a dry look. "Are you in a rush?"

She shrugged, sitting back and popping a bright berry in her mouth. Methodically she chewed it and pretended to give his question deep consideration. Devorin's hazel eyes looked more golden today, and they watched her avidly. Her heart secretly smiled.

"Well, no. But then I don't see why you couldn't help anyway."

"Are you asking me to?"

Rolling her eyes she went back to picking. "You don't have to be obtuse! Goodness! It's no wonder Yvés finds you annoying."

She heard a noise that sounded like a grunt, but knew it passed for light amusement from her friend. A moment later he settled himself across from her but instead of putting his picked berries in her basket, he ate them.

Amarie gave him a look.

"How old are you?"

The question came out of nowhere and Amarie froze. She gave Devorin a puzzled look.

"How old am I?"

He nodded.

"I'm nineteen—_not_ that you need to know." Her lips quirked into a smirk. "How old are _you?"_

"Twenty-five," was the deadpanned answer.

Amarie blinked. "You look hardly a day over twenty."

Devorin nodded thoughtfully as he picked and ate another strawberry. "My kin are long-lived."

"Is that so?"

He nodded. When he explained just how long lived her mouth hung open. Unbeknownst to her, her lips and tongue were stained red from the strawberries. She hardly noticed when Devorin's gazed dipped down to look at them.

"That's impossible! Nay, you are teasing me again."

"I am not." This time his normally straight face relaxed with amusement, which only further solidified Amarie's incredulity. "I promise you it is the truth," Devorin paused then spoke softly. "Your eyes are like sea."

The non sequitur made her blink. She didn't know what to say at first. Then she tilted her head causing her brown hair to fall over one shoulder.

"You've been to the sea?"

Devorin nodded. "Once. It was some years ago now."

They spent several more lazy hours in the forest, eating more berries than saving for later. They returned to the village stuffed and happy. Yvés came trotting up the village lane. Seeing them her eyes brightened.

"You have a letter!" She said to Amarie. She produced said epistle.

Amarie's eyes widened. Who would write her a letter? An elegant script was on the front of the slightly worn and stained envelop. On the back was a now chipped yellow wax seal. There was no sigil on it. Turning it back over she frowned.

"Who is it from?"

"Open it and see!" Yvés said grinning.

Amarie did just that. A beautifully written letter was revealed to her eyes. The lettering slanted slightly to the right. The dots, dashes, and tails were all strong. There was a masculine aesthetic to the text, but it was beautiful.

Scanning it she glanced up at her friends. "Can you tell me who it is from?"

Yvés frowned and Devorin said, "The signature is just there," he paused watching her face. "Can you read?"

Amarie glanced down. She shook her head negatively.

Gently Yvés took the letter and read the signature. "It's signed 'Orophin.'"

* * *

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_As always, thanks for reading!_


	16. Chapter 16

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

It was nearly ten months before her letter arrived. Orophin had started to wonder if she had received his at all, but when it came, stained from travel and ragged around the edges his heart lifted like a lark taking wing.

He had been on border duty when it arrived. The courier had was a young would-be warden. He was a runner and was tasked with delivering messages to those stationed on the borders, for their rotations could be months long.

Orophin had at first not thought anything of receiving the letter. His brothers would correspond with him, as well as Luniel. She was kind, and Orophin knew she would be closer to him if he allowed it.

Yet when he looked at the worn envelop he had frowned. The sender's script was unfamiliar.

"From where does this hail?" He had asked.

The young elf had been about to leave but stood to attention then. "By way of Imladris, sir."

Orophin had dismissed him with a nod. His heart was pounding though. Immediately he had placed the letter next to his heart under his tunic. Though the temptation to read it straight away nearly won out, he refused to let anyone know how much his spirits soared.

He was not alone on the border—and what's more, he was the lieutenant-warden on this particular stretch of the fences. Ascending into the trees once more he resumed a mask of calm. Yet he was sensitive to the weight of the letter above his heart. It was no heavier than a leaf, it he could hardly bear it.

In the months in between, he had managed to create a semblance of a normal life. He had even managed to fool his intelligent brothers. The ache he felt from Amarie's absence was tucked away deep in his heart; to where he could even convince himself into believing he was well.

Perhaps time did heal all wounds—or perhaps he just learned to live with the ache. Either way his heart now galloped with eagerness. He yearned for his watch end. Luck was with him, for he would be relieved of duty in only a few hours.

It was all he could do to not race home. Perforce he made himself walk with his comrades to the city. He laughed and joked with them as if nothing were amiss. Yet once home alone in his _flet_ he immediately pulled the letter forth.

He handled it with great care as if it would disintegrate in his hands. His eyes eagerly studied the script that bore his name. The letters were large and made with exaggerated precision. He brought the envelop to his nose and inhaled, hoping her scent might be on it. But it had been too long on the road.

Still, to know that it had been composed by Amarie, that her hands had touched the parchment… A shaky sigh escaped his lips. Tenderly and with some reverence he broke the white wax that served as a seal. The letter was one page, but with words on the front and back. Again the same conscious care in the penmanship was evident. But the lettering was large and almost childlike.

_Dear Fair One,_

_My hart weeps for the time it has taken for me to reply. I cannot blame the distanse entirely. It is only with-in the last few months that I have learned to reed and write. And I am stil learning. (Do forgive my misstakes.)_

_Oh the joy my heart felt when I reseeved your letter! I had not thot that I would heer from you again. As the months passed I rezined myself to never seeing or heering you again. _

_I must ask how you are, my dear friend. I have missed you and our talks. You have never been far from my thoughts._

_I am well. The Dúnedain have ax-septed me as one of their own. I have made many friends. It is wonderful to not be so alone! Yvés has been teeching me my letters. I practice everyday. Devorin helps too. _

_You would not believe it, but Devorin and I have become close friends. He is strange—but he is kind and most amuzing. Truly! I had no idea he had such humour. _

_You will be pleased to know that he still takes his orders from you quite seriously. He is but a step behind me if I go gathering in the forest. _

_How are your brothers? Do tell them I say hello. Part of my hart is still in Lórien. What a magikal place! I wish I could see it again._

_Do come to visit me, my dear friend. _

_Yours,_

_Amarie_

She signed her name with as much flourish her novice skills could muster. Orophin reread the letter—then again once more. When he read the line that she didn't know how to read or write, he berated himself for not knowing this. Yet he was more than pleased that she had learned.

_Amarie…_ With ease he pulled up her memory. The brown hair, summer kissed skin, and those blue-blue eyes. It was those eyes that had greeted him upon awakening in her cottage all those months ago.

There was an assertive knock on his door "Orophin!"

Startled he blinked.

"What are you doing? You're missing the party!" Rúmil's voice cajoled from the other side of his door. A moment later his younger brother let himself in. "Let's go,"

Before Orophin could hide the letter, Rúmil appeared at his side. Automatically Orophin laid a hand over the parchment, but Rúmil saw the gesture and lifted a brow.

"What's that?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"But it concerns you," Rúmil grinned lazily. "Or at least it's _concerning_ you." He tried to get a good look at the parchment.

Orophin quickly folded it up and stood to put away in his letter cabinet. But he was not fast enough. When he turned he saw Rúmil watching him with something between accusation and pity.

"It's from her, is it not?"

Orophin didn't meet his gaze but instead made for the carafe of wine on the sideboard. "From who? You'll have to be more specific."

Rúmil crossed his arms. "Do not play daft. You have neither the skill nor the craft to play the fool."

Orophin poured himself a goblet of wine. He did not reply and after several long moments of tense silence Rúmil sighed.

"It does you no good brother. I thought you had given up your affections for the girl?"

Orophin's hand tightened around the stem of his goblet. "One does not simply forget them."

"No. Perhaps not. It is impossible for us; but it is not love you feel for her—at least not the kind they speak of in tales."

Orophin was tempted to say his brother had no concept of love whatsoever but bit his tongue. It would be a callous thing to say—not to mention that it would confirm that his heart was indeed Amarie's.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Come away. You mustn't drink alone. Luniel is going to be there," he said coaxingly.

Orophin made no outward sign that he had heard Rúmil. Both brothers knew of the _elleth's_ affections for Orophin. And, if he was being honest, Orophin did like her; but not in the way he liked Amarie. He sighed. At last he capitulated, but his thoughts were troubled.

o0o

"He's in love with you."

Amarie glanced up from her cutting to look at Yvés. Both women's hands were red from the fruits they were slicing. Strawberries, lingonberries, raspberries and more were in various stages of preservation. Winter was fast approaching, and the village was hard at work to prepare for the long cold days ahead.

Though Amarie had come to love the village, she missed the long summer days at her old cottage.

"He most certainly is not." Amarie retorted as she returned to her chopping. "We are merely close friends."

Yvés made a skeptical noise in her throat. "I know you are not blind, my friend; nor daft." Her voice turned sly. "I also know that you are not unaffected."

Amarie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Devorin has been nothing but gentlemanly since the day I met him. He has no intentions beyond friendship."

Of course she wouldn't be averse to deepening their relationship. Yvés was right in that regard. As it came close to the anniversary of when she had first arrived, Amarie found herself reflecting more and more on her life.

She couldn't believe how much she had changed. Where was the girl who made a life of her own separate from others? What happened to she who had survived alone for two years without parents or siblings? And who was this young woman who had desired an elf, but had grown to love a ranger?

Amarie had never thought herself as immature, but since arriving in the Dúnedain village she had come to realize how sheltered she had become. Her girlish charm had matured into elegance, but she was still prone to smiling. Her kind heart was still intact, though she had come to learn that all in life was not fair. Still she was proud of who she was and how far she had come.

She was making a new life for herself.

Not long after that discussion with Yvés, Amarie found herself in Devorin's company. She was busy weaving cloaks for the rangers who went out into the wilds. The thick wool came from the hardy sheep they raised, as well as longhaired cows. These were blended together and created a garment that was both light and exceptionally warm.

Devorin had returned from his latest rotation out in the foothills. He always made it a point to seek her out first—even before going to his own home. More often than not, he'd bring her something. Usually small trinkets, things he had found out in the wilds that had struck him as lovely, and he wished to share them with her.

She had amassed quite the collection of feathers, colored stones, and even dried leaves and flowers. She treasured them all, for each came with a story of place that seemed to be of indescribable beauty. Amarie longed to see the hills and woods that Devorin and his fellow rangers traveled to. The heart of the wild ever danced in the fringes of her imagination—and the images were of Devorin's words.

When he came in, Amarie glanced up and smiled, though her fingers never faltered on the shuttle. Flakes of snow still clung to his hood and lashes, and his face was wind chapped, but his eyes warmed when he saw her.

"I have something for you," he said, reaching into his pack.

Amarie waited curiously, as she continued to slide the shuttled back and forth. The cloth grew steadily under her hands. She watched his own hand as he held something small. He glanced at her with expectation and she smiled, at last pausing her work.

Holding out her hands he placed the small treasure in her palms, careful to not touch her. He was ever polite and never took liberties. It was something she truly liked about him.

A natural, uncut crystal of pinkish hue lay in her hands. Her lips formed an "o" as she looked it over. It was cool to the touch yet rapidly warmed in her hands.

"It's beautiful," she said sincerely. She picked it up and held up so the lamplight could shine through it. The facets winked and sparkled as the orange firelight struck them.

"I found it in a cave up in the troll hills. If it were safer I would take you there, for all the walls are covered in the jewels. When the light touches them, it is like walking in the center of a star."

Amarie tried to image such a place. "Perhaps we will go one day." She beamed at him.

Devorin's eyes held hers. The hazel glint softened. For a moment she thought he might take her hand—and secretly wished he would—but he seemed to remember himself.

When he spoke his voice was soft.

"Perhaps."

o0o

Months turned and then years passed, and before either Orophin or Amarie realized ten years had gone. Throughout it all they corresponded regularly. Amarie became a prolific writer. Her writing became more elegant and her spelling improved.

She told him everything, and sent bundles of letters, instead of just one. The same went for Orophin.

He was ever eager to hear from her, and though he missed her terribly, the ache did gradually lesson. Though he never pursued the _ellyth_ that were so fond of him. Always they would end their letters saying that he should come—hers gently cajoling him in such a way that he could hear her voice and see her smile; his were always playfully guilty and filled with flowery promises.

They were promises he intended to keep, but time moves different for the elves.

Then came the letter that made his whole world shift. For a long moment he simply held the parchment, the neat words blurring as memories took hold. He had missed his chance. He should have known. It was expected—mortals don't have the luxury of time.

_I am married._

The words felt like a millstone had been tied to his heart, and his heart felt like it was dropped in the great chasm inside Moria.

Amarie—his sweet flower—had married the ranger Devorin.

It was a long time before he wrote to her again.

But her letters continued to come unabated. Hearing of her joy in her letters slowly, and the gentle wonder at his silence finally caused him to put pen to paper. He had known from the beginning that there could be no future for them; but still it had hurt that she had found love in another.

She assured him that he still held a special place in her heart. And in each letter she continued to invite him to visit her.

When she told him of the birth of her first child, he had felt such a swell of happiness that it made no sense. Yet her joy was so infectious in her letters that he couldn't help but respond.

By the time he had decided to come visit her, Amarie had bourn four children, and was carrying her fifth.

o0o

"You should not go."

Orophin ignored the advice and continued to pack his bags. He intended to stay for the summer—perhaps longer if his welcome didn't wear out. He didn't know what kind of reception he would have, but knew at least that Amarie would welcome him.

Behind him the adviser sighed deeply. Haldir moved into his line of sight.

"Why, brother?"

Orophin quickly rolled another pair of tunics and stowed them in his bag. One was already packed. It was filled with gifts for Amarie's children.

"She is my friend. Why should I not visit her?" He replied tersely.

Both Haldir and Rúmil had counseled him not to go. It would do him no good. She would be changed. Time was not kind to the Second Born. Had his heart not healed? Neither could understand his continued attachment to the woman.

"Orophin," Haldir laid a hand on his arm. "You risk too much."

He shrugged the hand off and fastened his bag closed. "That I have already done. I know well the limited time mortals have on this earth. Already I have squandered ten years. That may be as nothing to us, but to them it is like an age."

Shouldering his bags he met Haldir's concerned gaze.

"I will not make the same mistake twice."

Lothlórien's Marchwarden studied him with something akin to sadness. Finally he said, "Then let this visit be an end to it. You must put her behind you. Were she to live a hundred years or more, she can never be yours."

Orophin dropped his gaze. "Well do I know it." His thoughts turned as he reassessed the choices he made. If he had done things differently…but that was a path he had not taken. Still… He lifted his eyes.

"She is my friend, and I will see her before her nature separates us for eternity."

Orophin stepped around his brother and left his home. As he mounted his horse, his spirits lifted in a way they had not in many years. At last, he was going to see his heart's desire.

* * *

_Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter up. The last two weeks have been so exceptionally busy that any down time I had was spent sleeping. As a newspaper editor I find myself both loving my job, but very often wishing for hours and energy. _

_I always love hearing from you. Reviews feed the muse! _

_Also - I am half way through tidying up _Invictus_ \- so for those of you who read that one, it should be much cleaner now. As for it's sequel, I am happy to report that it's still coming along nicely. _

_Do message me if you happen to catch typos here. The downside of writing quickly without an editor of my own means that sometimes I make grammatical mistakes._

_As always thanks for reading!_


	17. Chapter 17

_I don't own anything in Tolkien's world. I just play there._

* * *

"You should be resting," the lady admonished.

Amarie merely smiled and stroked her full belly. Vardaniel was a kind _elleth,_ and very skilled in healing. She had trained under the finest elven physicians and was a fine healer herself; and certainly the most respected midwife in Rivendell.

The Dúnedain's strong ties to the elven city meant that Vardaniel was a familiar face among the tribe's mothers-to-be. She had overseen each of Amarie's pregnancies and births.

"Amarie can't rest," Elrohir quipped from the floor where he was currently entertaining Amarie's youngest children. "It is impossible for her to sit down. You know this Vardaniel."

"Erohir!" Amarie's son protested when he stopped paying attention to him. "Look!"

Amarie gave her only son a stern look. "Amandil, that is not how we address our guests."

The boy ducked his head, but instantly brightened when Elrohir handed him another block.

"Not there!" Ellen whined. "Put it here!"

Amandil stuck his tongue out at his older sister.

Amarie was about to leverage herself upright when Vardaniel gave her the same stern mothering look.

"Keep off your feet, Amarie." She ordered, then turned to Elrohir and tasked him with taking the youngest children outside to play.

Amarie sighed and sat further back in her plush chair. While she would never admit it, she _was_ tired.

Elladan appeared followed by Amarie's two eldest daughters. Amarie hid a smirk behind her hand at how devoted her two girls were to this particular elf. It was not uncommon for her to settle disputes on who Elladan fancied more. Of course those fights only happened once all the elves were gone.

Grinning, Elladan ushered the girls to their mother and they presented her with a delicious looking meal. "All the chores are done," he told her.

"Even the laundry," huffed Margo with her characteristic theatrics.

Out of all the children, Margo was the one who looked most like Amarie. And she had also inherited her feisty nature. Although she was only the second oldest, she was quick to order all her siblings about.

Devlyn was the most like her father. Quiet, observant, and fiercely intelligent. She rarely complained, and almost never fought with her siblings. But she guarded them fiercely.

Amarie smiled at her family. Devorin would return home this evening, and she was just as excited as the children. He had been gone for nearly a month. There had been a growing threat of goblins, wolves, and now orcs coming down from the northeast. The Dúnedain had managed to deter them from nearing the village, but it was enough of a concern that had Lord Elrond sending out his own patrols.

"Thank you, darlings," Amarie said, smiling at her daughters. "Why don't you go and enjoy the rest of the day outside?"

Winter would be upon them soon, but for the moment the weather held. Eagerly the girls followed after their younger siblings and Elrohir. Elladan remained behind, kindly helping Vardaniel pack her satchel.

"How is the little one?" He asked.

Amarie swallowed her bite of cold mutton and said, "Quiet. This one is not nearly as rambunctious as his siblings."

"He?" Elladan lifted a brow. His lips curved. "So sure are you?"

Amarie smiled and rested a hand over her middle. "Aye." Call it mother's intuition, but she had a sense that this child would be another son.

She missed the slight pull at the corner of Vardaniel's lips. Elladan did not. He gave her a questioning look but she gave her head a minute shake. Looking back at Amarie he watched as she ate the meal he and her daughters had prepared. She was glowing, and for all he knew looked well. But he was not trained as a midwife, hence Vardaniel's intervention. When Devlyn had been conceived he had thought himself capable enough as a healer to help guide the new parents along. But he quickly realized that that was not the case.

Still, he had assisted Vardaniel through all of Amarie's pregnancies and had learned much. So he wondered at the _elleth's _disquiet.

"A messenger arrived yesterday," he told Amarie. He knew that she was always interested in the goings on beyond the village and he and his brother were always happy to gossip with her.

Her face watched him attentively. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense,"

He chuckled. "It was a messenger from Lórien," he paused, enjoying the way her blue eyes lit up. "Guess who is coming for a visit."

Amarie's lips parted and her eyes grew wide. "…Orophin?" She nearly whispered.

Elladan nodded.

Her joy was so large that both elves felt it instantly. Were she not weighted down with child and food tray, Elladan was certain she would be jumping with her excitement. As it was Vardaniel gently admonished her.

"Peace! You mustn't excite yourself."

Amarie ignored her. "Orophin is coming? When?"

"A week, perhaps two," Elladan said thinking. "His message indicated that he would be leaving on the twentieth of _Urui."_

Amarie smiled and stroked her belly. "Do you hear that little one? If you hurry along, you can meet Mama's dear friend."

Elladan smiled but said his goodbyes as Vardaniel motioned for him to come with her. "Keep off your feet, you hear me, Amarie? Four children you may have bourn but each pregnancy is different."

"Aye, milady." Amarie called and waved them off. "Devorin shall be home this eve. I promise that I will rest more now."

"See that you do."

Elladan closed the door after them. Vardaniel paused on the porch and watched his brother chase the children. They were laughing and screaming with glee in their play. Vardaniel's face grew soft at the domestic scene, but worry shadowed her eyes.

"What is it?" Elladan queried softly in Elvish.

Vardaniel did not reply straight away. Finally she sighed. "The little one is much too quiet. I fear for him."

Elladan's gaze grew sharp. "Is there something wrong with him?"

The healer pursed her lips. "I cannot say. While it is not uncommon for children to be quiet for periods of time, this one has been uncharacteristically calm for the whole pregnancy." She sighed. "It could be nothing."

Ellen squeaked as Elrohir caught her. He made playful growling sounds. "I have you now!" He kissed her chubby cheek.

"Nooooo!" She squealed.

Vardaniel murmured softly. "I hope it is nothing."

o0o

While summer lingered on in the lowlands, winter had come early to the mountains. It had taken Orophin a week longer than he hoped to arrive in Rivendell. The hidden vale was a welcome sight after days of bitter cold and snow.

The sun had set and the sky above was crystalline in its clearness. The very stars looked close enough to touch. His heart lifted as he guided his mount down the familiar path.

He was surprised when the sons of Elrond failed to appear. Instead new faces greeted him.

"They are away in the north. Fell things have crept down from the mountains." The lead sentinel told him.

A prick of icy worry touched Orophin's heart, but further questioning revealed that the goblins and wolves were further east than the Dúnedain village. Orcs had been sighted as well, but these were more cunning or at least more intelligent than their counterparts, and they had kept well away from Rivendell and the village.

Entering the inner sanctum of the city, Orophin was greeted by Lord Elrond himself and taken to a warm guestroom that boasted pained windows. The fine elven glass kept the cold winter air out.

Frost touched the trees, though it was only just fall. The city was robed in reds, yellows, and gold. The purple mountain faces added a royal feel to the splendor that was so different from his home.

He wondered if Amarie had visited the city since he last saw her. In her letters she had indicated that she had been learning elvish songs on her harp. She was eager to play for him—and he was eager to hear her.

Touching the small crate that had been stowed at the end of his bed, he wondered again what her children looked like. She had four, with another on the way. He marveled at that.

Children where precious to the elves, but it was rare for them to have more than three. Most had only one, perhaps two. His family was the rare kind that boasted three children. In the old days, before the Second Born, it was more common for his race to have as many as six or seven children.

He wondered now what had changed.

For a brief moment he allowed himself to fantasize that things were different—that things such as mortality did not exist. If he had been free to claim Amarie as his own, would he have fathered that many children?

It was a thought he quickly left alone. No use in pining for what could never be. Still, part of his heart wondered.

A snowstorm blew down from the mountains that evening, and it further delayed his journey to the village by another four days. Summer was effectively gone. The cold snap had everyone bundled up tightly. Most stayed indoors and out of the inclement weather.

Orophin resented the delay, but Elrond warned him that the trek out of the valley would be treacherous in the storm. It was better to wait.

And wait he did, though it did his spirit little good. He prowled the halls and even the snowy paths. His heart urged him to go. But he had waited ten years. He could wait a little longer.

When at last the weather cleared, he saddled up his horse and made the journey north. By the time he neared the village, most of the snow had melted, but the air remained crisp.

Much to his surprise he was not stopped as he neared the village. He had expected a patrol to waylay him. Where were all the men? He frowned and clucked his mount to a faster pace.

When the village came into view his heart settled. It looked much the same. People milled about their work. Children played, ignoring their elders. Orophin watched them curiously as he entered the village. Were any of these Amarie's little ones?

He dismounted when an elder woman hailed him. He asked for where Amarie now lived. The woman's face revealed little but she pointed west. "Her husband's house is just there beyond that line of trees."

Nodding his thanks he mounted his horse once more and rode the mile and half to where Amarie lived. His heart started pounding in anticipation. Reaching the thin line of trees, he dismounted and led his horse the rest of the way. He paused as he reached the meadow.

A two-story house was nestled on the north side. Smoke purled gently from its stone chimney. Cheery yellow curtains hung in the windows. Further to the west was a slight rise where a willow tree grew.

The meadow felt oddly deserted though. A strange feeling settled over Orophin. Shaking it off he guided his horse forward. The front door opened as he neared. A tall woman with a comely face appeared.

_Yvés._

While she looked older, she was still recognizable. Her youthful charm had matured into something graceful yet tired. Her face was drawn he saw, and she looked numb.

Before he could greet her she spoke. "You."

There was no malice in her tone. In fact there wasn't anything at all. Just a dull acknowledgement.

Orophin affect a pleasant mien. "My lady. I have come at last to visit, Lady Amarie."

The woman's eyes looked suspiciously red the nearer he got. A girl near the age of nine appeared by the woman's side. Her dark hair and hazel eyes rested guardedly on him.

"Who are you?" She said suspiciously.

"A friend of Amarie's. I am Orophin."

Yvés bent towards the girl and murmured something he couldn't hear. The girl's eyes never left him. There was the sudden sound of an infant and the girl disappeared inside.

Yvés closed the door behind her as she descended the stairs. The feeling of wrongness grew inside of Orophin as the woman neared him.

"Why did you not come sooner?" She asked him. The numbness that had cloaked her was fast changing into fury.

Orophin opened his mouth to reply, but a gruff voice interrupted him.

"Leave him be, Yvés."

Both of them turned to see a haggard looking man appear from the hill with the willow tree. His face was lined, though it shouldn't have been. A rough beard grew along his jaw and his hair looked like it hadn't seen a comb in some time. Had it not been for the hazel eyes Orophin would not have recognized him.

"He should have come sooner!" Yvés cried angrily. "Years he stayed away, yet he shows his face _now?"_

"Go into the house, Yvés." Devorin ordered tiredly.

The woman's eyes flashed. She turned on Orophin. "You should've come sooner. Or better yet, stayed away for good!"

"Yvés!"

The woman whirled away in a snap of skirts and stalked into the house. The door slammed behind her. Orophin turned an expectant gaze to the man who had married Amarie. He looked horrible. Devorin sighed and rubbed both hands over his face. His beard rasped against them.

"You must not take what she said to heart. She grieves."

Orophin kept his face carefully neutral. "What does she mean that I should have come sooner?"

Before Devorin could speak the door to the house flung open again with a cry of "Ada!"

Orophin turned and saw a young girl with dark curly hair and blue eyes come flying towards them. She ignored Orophin completely and ran to her father.

"Ada! M-Margo y-y-yelled at muh-muh-meeee!"

"Hush, Ellen." Devorin had scooped up the little girl and tiredly rubbed the heaving back. The child bawled loudly, and Orophin winced slightly.

It was strange to see the taciturn Devorin soothing a child. The once cautious young man was completely eclipsed by this foreigner who stood before him now. Devorin gestured for Orophin to follow him inside.

Ellen's sobbing resolved itself into hiccups though fat tears still streamed from her blue eyes. The eyes were bluer than blue, Orophin saw. His heart clenched to see them.

By now he knew something was terribly wrong, but he didn't dare think beyond the moment. He followed Devorin into a cozy parlor. Immediately three pairs of eyes snapped to him. One was the blue of Amarie's eyes. Another was the same hazel as her father. The little boy had oddly colored eyes—something between blue and hazel. Very curious.

"Who are you!" The lad all but shouted.

One look from his father had the boy quickly ducking his head. Devorin introduced his children. They all looked on him with something of awe and expectation.

"Mother spoke of you," the girl named Margo said. Orophin couldn't help but wonder as he looked on the young lady. She was the pure image of Amarie—who was noticeably absent.

From somewhere in the house a baby cried. The children grimaced, although it was Devlyn who stood and left the room.

"Where is Amarie?" Orophin asked at last.

Devorin sighed and leaned back in his chair. The air of grief was undeniable. Even the children looked away. Ellen's lips trembled and she clung to her father. Little Amandil sniffled but refused to cry. Margo scooped him into her arms.

"She is gone." Devorin said at last. His voice was flat. No emotion was left in the man.

Orophin sat very still. He felt…nothing. It was as if everything around came to a sudden halt, and he sat outside of time looking in. Finally after an unbearably long silence he asked, "How?"

He hadn't noticed the arrival of Yvés. Behind her stood Devlyn with a tiny infant in her arms: the source of the crying.

Orophin stared at the bundle in the young girl's arms. Her hazel eyes gleamed with green and gold as moisture glossed over them. The baby made a muffled noise. The sound of it pierced Orophin's heart.

"She died. In childbed." Yvés said. Her voice wobbled.

While the truth had been following him since he neared the village, hearing it spoken so bluntly caused something in Orophin to crack. A brittle fiber in his soul that he hadn't realized was there shattered. It was the wound that had callused over since he left Amarie a decade ago.

The pain of leaving her never truly healed. It had simply formed a protective covering. That scab was now gone.

A silent sob made him turn to Devorin. The man's face was covered by a single hand, while the other held little Ellen.

Orophin felt his soul descend into grief.

o0o

It was entirely unfitting. The white stone wasn't even carved. There was no indication that this patch of earth was different from any other besides the evidence of it being recently upturned. Yet beneath it lay his heart.

Amarie's grave sat on the west side of the willow tree hill. A few sad looking flowers were laid over it, but the cold snap had all but killed the few remaining blooms.

His breath got stuck in his throat and Orophin gasped trying to breath.

Devorin hadn't been able to leave the house; he was stricken and barely holding himself together; but he had told Orophin where Amarie was buried. He hadn't even realized he was there until he saw the white stone. It was the size of his palm. It was nothing.

What sort of tribute was this? How could Devorin claim to have loved Amarie? Was this anyway to honor one's wife?

She had died only three days before—just _three days. _Had he not been delayed by the snowstorm he could have seen her. Orophin crumpled under the weight of the fact. He gripped his heart.

_You should've been here sooner!_

Yvés' angry voice now mocked him. Yes. He should have come sooner. He should have been here years ago. Time moves differently for mortals. He knew this…or at least he thought he did.

_You should not go. You risk too much._

Haldir's voice echoed through the chambers of his mind. He had promised his brothers that he had moved on; that his heart was his own—he had even convinced himself of this. But he had only been lying.

_"Loscarîn nín," _his voice choked. _"Loscarîn nín, goheno nin."_

Yet his plea for forgiveness went unheard. A sudden cry disrupted his sorrow. He was disconcerted to realize the unearthly sound came from him.

_Why did you leave, Amarie nín? You were so young! _

He thought he understood. He thought he knew what mortality meant—but he did not. Was this why his kin had removed themselves from mortal lands? Was it because this pain came all too soon?

Crueler still was the knowledge that Amarie still had many years yet to live. Fate was such a wicked thing.

In his mind Orophin recounted all the time he had spent with the bright young woman. Her brown hair that was always pulled back by a bow; her eyes that were the bluest blue he had ever seen; her smile that seemed to make the sun jealous of its radiance; she had saved him. Then he her.

Yet he was not here when she needed him most.

That was a knife in his soul. Yet what could he have done? He was not a midwife. Still, had she been in Rivendell or Lothlórien she might have been saved. She labored hard was all Yvés had told him. It didn't make sense to him. What did he know of childbirth?

"She gave her life so that her son might live."

Orophin felt something on his face and was confounded to find tears. He had not wept since his mother had passed leaving their father stricken with grief. He now understood the pain his father must have felt.

_"Melin le," _The words tumbled from his lips, much to his surprise.

But they were true. He _did_ love her. And now she was gone.

Orophin wept alone.

o0o

He did not stay. He couldn't. He left the crate of gifts, mounted his horse and rode away. He skirted the village and did not stop until he reached Rivendell. Elrond greeted him with surprise, then with concern.

"Stay. Rest," the great elf said. Unbeknownst to Orophin, Elrond gave the command that he was not to leave for some time.

Orophin hardly noticed. He drifted. Days turned into weeks and soon a month was gone. Winter came hard. A howling wind shrieked down from the Redhorn Gate.

Yet in his worry, Elrond sent a message to Lórien. His intrepid messengers braved the elements to deliver the word: Lórien's warden was not well.

It was well into the coldest month of the year, and Orophin sat listlessly in front of a fire in a shadowed parlor. His face was wane with want for light and life. He stared into the fire, but saw nothing.

Elrond approached him. "You must let your grief go, ere it consumes you."

Orophin made no indication that he heard the elven lord. Elrond moved into his line of sight. "Orophin, do not let your spirit fade. You have much yet to do."

The fingers of his right fist flinched, and slowly they curled into a tight ball. "Leave me."

"That I cannot do, young _Galadhel._" Elrond crouched before him. "It is right that you should grieve for her, but do not allow it to devour you."

Orophin met his gaze. Slowly a dull anger built in them. "Who are you to tell me how to grieve?" He did not for a moment think on his words or tone. Sorrow ran deep within him, blinding him to all else.

"I am one who also grieves." Elrond told him. "I have seen many sorrows, young one; and I have bourn more than my share of grief."

Orophin eyed him then lowered his gaze. Elrond had suffered more than he. His parents had been taken from him when he was only an elfling; his own twin had chosen a mortal life; and then his wife was nearly destroyed by the orcs who had captured her so long ago. She had to be sent to the Undying Lands, while Elrond was left behind to tend his people alone.

"Forgive me," Orophin sighed. He covered his face.

"There is nothing to forgive," Elrond said patiently. "But you must live, Orophin."

"How can I? How can I when my heart feels like it's being severed from my soul? I am lost to this sorrow." He shuddered. "My brothers warned me. The warned against my coming. I should have heeded them."

"Word would have reached you one way or another," Elrond said. "But such is the peril of caring for mortals."

Orophin's shoulder shook. "I curse my heart! Why does it love her still?"

Elrond rose and put a kind hand on his shoulder. He looked beyond Orophin's seat to see the elf's brothers. They moved swiftly, concern effusing their usually calm features.

"The Second Born will ever be a mystery to us. They burn so brightly that it is impossible to not notice them. Their blessing is our curse—they can leave the circles of this world while we linger on. But it is always better to have known them then not. In us they live on forever."

o0o

Two weeks later, under the care of his brothers Orophin rode home. His heart was still shattered but the danger had passed. He never forgot Amarie, nor her children.

The years passed but Lothlórien remained unchanged.

Until one day, a man came riding to the forest. He was tall, with hair brown like his horse and eyes bluer than blue. Around his shoulders was an old but clearly elven cloak.

The guardians of the wood stopped him, bows trained, and demands of what his business might be.

"I come seeking my namesake."

The leader of the elven patrol looked him over, unimpressed. "And what man is named after the elves? Who is it that you seek?"

The man's lips curved as if some secret amused him.

"Orophin."

o0o

_Fin_

* * *

_Thank you dear readers for coming along for this tale. It __turned into a much longer story than I expected it to. _

_I know you are probably railing against the ending, but not all stories can be happy. This tale was meant to explore the truth of what would happen if an elf loved a mortal. I wanted to see what would happen if a normal mortal fell in love with a normal elf. And I wanted to investigate what happens when we wait too long. In essence this is a story about missed opportunities as well as confronting mortality. Inevitably it is a sad tale. But who can say what the future holds for Orophin the elf, or Orophin, Amarie's son. I leave it at your feet, dear readers! If someone would like to take up that tale, please do so!_

_If you want to read something with a happier ending, check out _Invictus_ if you haven't already. Now that _Raspberry Jam_ is finished, I can focus exclusively on _Invictus' _sequel. That one I promise will have a happier end than this one!_

_Thank you once more from the bottom of my heart. Nothing gives me greater joy than writing, and it delight this old writer's heart to hear your reviews. _

_Stay tuned for _Patria!_ Lana and Legolas have plenty more adventures!_


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